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ryman, I will go with thee, and be thy guides 
In thy most need to go by thy side 

EDMU^ID SPENSER, bom about *1552 in 
East Smithiield, Lx)ndon. M.A. Cambridse 
in 1576. Obtained place in Leicester's hous^ 
hold. Went to Ireland, 1580, with Lord Grey 
de Wilton on the latter’s appointment as Lord 
Deputy to that country, and lived there until 
1598. Die4 in Westminster in 1599, and 
bilried in Westminster Abbey. 


The faerie queene 





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Aldine House * Bedford Street * London 
Made in Great Britain 

The Aldine Press • Letchworth • Herts 
Fiilt published in this edition 1910 
Last reprinted 1955 


STAU V t NfPAl; 
,Vi fl'- 
CAl' UTl a 


“ The nobility of the Spensers has been illustrated and enriched by the 
trophies of Marlborough, but I exhort them to consider Faerie Qiteene 
as the m«)st precious jewel of their coronet.” — CiiitnoN. 

Like all other great works of art, The Faerie Queene is in- 
timately and thoroughly associated with the age in which it 
was written and published. Perhaps, even more than most 
great works, it is so. For it recalls and reflects its age, not 
only unconsciously and inevitably, — not only because it 
cannot help itself, so to speak; for a writer cannot, if he will, 
sever himself from his time, and so an Elizabethan cannot 
be other than an Elizabethan, whatever disguise he may 
assume in the shape of language or form — but also deliber- 
ately; it lays itself out of goodwill prepense to perpetuate 
the image of Elizabethan England. Spenser himself frankly 
informs us that such a portraiture was intended and designed 
by him in his famous Epic. Many persons, he says, may 
fancy that what he writes is but the “ abundance of an idle 
brain," and " painted forgery," and may remind him th&t 
he omits to give any geographical definition of his Fairy land. 
To such criticasters he replies, that after all the terrestrial 
world is yet imperfectly traversed and known, and the land 
of Fairy may exist, though no bold navigator has yet dis- 
covered it. Are not fresh, unsuspected countries being found 
and announced every day? But, lest through the dulncss of 
his audience there should be any misconception, he goes on 
to state explicitly, that in fact his Fairy land is neither more 
nor less than England itself. Apostrophising Queen Eliza- 
beth, he declares that in the country he depicts, .she may 
confidently recognise her own kingdom. Thus not only 
indirectly and accidentally but directly and purposefully 
The Faerie Queene describes, after its manner, the England 
and the Englishmen of Spenser's day. And therefore, if we 
would fully understand it, the chronology of its composi*son 
and of contemporary events is particularly important. 

The Faerie Queene — it is a mere fragment (about a quarter) 



The Faerie Queene 

of what it was intended to be ^ — was not built in a day. The 
first three Books took about a decade to write; no doubt 
there were long intervals in which Spenser had for orfc reason 
or another to put his magnum opus altogether on one side. 
The second three Books took some three years. We first 
hear of The Faerie Queene as already begun in 1580; we know 
that the first three ^Books were completed in or by 1589, and 
also that the secor^a three Books were finished in or by 1594. 
The evidence for these statements is to be found in the corre- 
spondence of •Spenser and his friend Gabriel Harvey, in Colin 
Clout's Come Home Again, and in Sonnet Ixxx. 

Writing to Harvey from Lord Leicester's House, Strand, 
on the 2nd of April 1580, Spenser begs his friend to return 
him his Faerie Queene that he may go on with it : 

** Now my Dreams and Dying Pelican being fully fini-^hed (as I partly 
signified in my last letters) and presently to be imprinted, I will in hand 
forthwith with mv Faery Queene, which I pray you heartily send me with 
all expedition, and your friendly letters and long expected judgment withal, 
which let not be short, but in all points such as you ordinarily use and I 
extraordinarily desire,” 

And presently “ Hobbinol ** delivers himself on the subject 
which was evidently so much on Spenser's mind and so little 
on his, and delivers himself in a way that might have sup- 
pressed Spenser's poetic enterprise altogether, had he not 
reserved his independence, or if his own instinct had not made 
^ledant's censure of little moment; 

'* In good faith I had once again nigh forgotten your Faerie Queene. 
Howbeit, by gcxid chance, I have now sent her home at the last, neither in 
better nor worse case than 1 found her. .And must you of necessity have 
my judgment of her indeed? To be plain, 1 am void of all judgment, if 
your iVin^ Cotnedies whereunto, in imitation of Herodotus, you give the 
names of the Nine Muses (and in one man’s fancy not unworthily) come 
not nearer Ariosto’s Comedies either for the fineness of plausible elocution, 
or the rareness of poetical invention than that Elvish Queen doth to his 
Otlamlo Furtoso, which, notwithstanding, you will needs seem to emulate 
and hope to overgo, as you flatly professed yourself in one of your last 
letters. . . . 

Spenser's nine comedies are not extant, so far as is known, 
and so we cannot compare them with The Faerie Queene ; but 

* See ” A letter of the Author’s expounding his whole intention 111 the 
course of this work ... to the right noHe and valorous Sir Walter 
Raleigh, Knight”: ‘‘ By ensample 01 which excellent poets [Tasso and 
Ariosto] I labour to portraict in Arthur, before he was king, the image 
of ^brave knight perfected in the twelve private moral virtues as Aristotle 
hatn devised, — the which is the purpose of these first twelve books, which, 
if I find to be well accepted, I may be perhaps encouraged to frame the 
other part of politic virtues in his person, after that he came to be king.” 

Introduction vii 

we shall perhaps not greatly err if we accept Gabriel Harvey’s 
alternative, and believe him to be void of all judgment in the 
preferen<!e he declares for them. 

The next mention of The Faerie Queene at present observed 
occurs in Briskett’s Discourse of Civill Life, co)iiaini}ig the 
Ethike part of Morall Philosophic. This work describes a 
party of friends met at the author's cottage near Dublin. 
One is Dr. Long, Primate of Armagh; ana, Dr. Long did not 
become Primate of Armagh till the summer of 1584 ; so that, 
unless that title is anticipated — the Discourse \^as not pub- 
lished till 1606, and so possibly may have had additions or 
modifications — the date cannot be earlier than that year; 
and it certainly cannot be much later, as there is good rca.son 
for maintaining that in 1588, if not before, Spenser was well 
settled at Kilcolman; it was probably that very year. We 
learn from a speech which Briskett's reports “ M. Edmond 
Spenser late your Lordship's (Lord Arthur Grey of Wilton) 
Secretary " as making, that The Faerie Queene was now well 
advanced : 

“ For sure I am that it is not unknown unto you that I have already 
undertaken a wf»rk tending to the same effect (a forth of Moral 

Philosophy] which is in heroical verse under the title of a Faerte Queene 
to represent all the moral virtues. . . . Which work, as I hu^ e already 
well entered into, if God shall please to spare me life that I may finish it 
according to my mind, your wish, M, Briskett, wdl he in some sort accom- 
plished though perhaps not so effectually as you could desire.*' 

1 think we may find ground for supposing that the whole 
of Book I. and a good half of Book IL were written before he 
went to Ireland. The identification of Braggadochio with 
the Duke of Anjou is generally accepted ; now. it was early in 
1380 that the Duke of Anjou caused so much annoyance, and 
excited so much disgust; and it is in the early cantos of Book 
IL of The Faerie Queene that Braggadochio is held up to con- 
tempt. Moreover, and this fact has, I think, hitherto e.scaped 
notice, it is in Canto ix. of Book IL that we first have scenes 
and allusions that belong to Ireland and Irish experiences. 
In Stanza 6 we have the first mention of Arthcgall, who un- 
questionably stands for Lord Arthur Grey of Wilton, the 
special hero of Book V. In Stanza 13 wc have certainly a 
ghastly Irish idyll, painted from the life — such an idyll as he 
had seen with his own eyes in Glcnmalurc and elsewhere, ajid 
iis his View of the Present State of Ireland abundantly illu- 
strates. In Stanza 16 he speaks in a simile of ** the fens of 

viii The Faerie Queene 

Allen/' and the gnats that swarm from them at eventide. 
And yet again, in Stanza 24 he thus describes a part of the 
House of Temperance: 

** Of hewen stone the porch was fairly wrought, 

Slone moic of value and more smooth and fine 
Than jet or marble far from Ireland brought.” 

Certainly in or JLy 1589 the first three books were finished, 
and in that year, as we gather from Colin ClouVs Come Home 
Again (=Spcnser’s Return) — a poem originally written in 
1591 when he was once again domiciled at Kilcolman — he 
went with Raleigh to England to have them printed and 

Undoubtedly, the reception of his masterpiece greatly 
cheered and encouraged him. Even Harvey joined in the 
chorus of praise and delight that arose in its honour. And 
with a spirit refreshed and renewed the Prince of Poets — 
such was the title bestowed on him — set himself to the con- 
tinuation of his splendid task; and, enjoying comparative 
quiet in the interval between two great rebellions, he suc- 
ceeded in producing three more books in the years 1591, *92, 
'93 and part of ’94. The great domestic event, contemporary 
with these compositions, was his falling in love with the 
lady whom, not, it would seem, without some rebuffs and 
despondencies, he at last won to be his wife And in the Sixth 
tTBook of i'he Faerte Queene he so far gives way to his private 
rapture as to introduce his fiancee into the midst of the legend 
of Sir Calidorc. His love-suit and its anxieties, we learn, had 
somewhat interfered with the progress of his poem. But at 
last the lady accepted his devotion, and presently we hear 
that the second three books were completed, and that the 
work was, after a breathing space, to be continued with 
renewed energy and spirit; sec Amoretti Ixxx., which was 
certainly written before the Epilhalamion, the song that 
celebrates his marriage, June ii, 1594. 

Two years later, i.e., in 1506. Spenser again visited London, 
and these second three books were published, the first three 
re-issued with them. No other part of his vast, too vast, 
design was ever to be completed. What leisure for poetising 
he had in London must have been fully occupied with his 
Hvmns (o Heavenly Love and Beauty, his Prothalamion, and 
his memorable prose work A View of the Present State of 
Ireland, on which he evidently spent much labour and care. 



And when he r^urned to Ireland, the clouds of another 
rebellion were rapidly gathering. In such deepening dark- 
ness it must have been difficult to see to write, so to speak. 
Housed in an old castle of the Desmonds, and conspicuously 
representing the detestable scheme of Knglish colon i.sation, 
he was exposed to no common danger. The woods that then 
grew round Kilcolman were rife with|bittcr enemies biding 
their time. He must often have seen their threatening looks 
and heard their furious curses. No wonder he found it hard 
to go on singing of the Fairy' Queen, or to sing of anything. 
Two more cantos and two stanzas of a third seem to be all he 
produced after 1304, which — how procured by the publisher 
we do not know — were first printed in the first folio edition of 
The Faerie Queene in appearing “ both for matter and 

form " . . . “ to be parcel of some following Boole . . . under 
the legend of Constancy.'* 

The composition of The Faerie Queene, then, as we have it, 
extends over a period of some fifteen years, t e., fiom 1370 to 
1594; and with the ICnghsh history of tins time it very closely 
associates itself. It is, in fact, a j^rolonged p:ran to the gdory 
of England. Had it been completed the overthrow of the 
Spanish Armada would have rcceivc'd its special celebration. 
I.ords Howard, and l^'ssex, and llunsdon, and other great 
sailors, and soldiers, and statesmen were all to have a place 
in his gorgeous pageant. In so much <)f it as was completed, 
the Earl of I.ciccster, Sir Philip Sidney, Sir Walter Ra>igh, 
Lord Arthur Grey of Wilton, Sir Francis W.ilsingham, and 
many more of contemporary note and fame move before us 
'‘larger than liuman," transfigured and gloiified. The Red 
Cross Knight himself, — what is he, both in Ins strength and 
in his weakness but the idealised h’nghshman of Spenser’s 
century? Spenser lived in the midst of events of great 
magnitude and of absorbing interest, and in the midst of men 
that were ecpial to occasions so fateful and supreme, and 
even in the soarings of his fancy he could not from the 
excitements and intensities of which the life of the time con- 
sisted. He could take up no other themes than the great 
world in which he found himself provided. Neither in his 
head nor his heart was there room for any other story than 
the Elizabethan, with all its terrible hazards, its strange 
surprises, its brilliant achievements. He was fascinatcyl and 
possessed by it. And so, as we have seen, England becomes 
to him a land of fairy, wrapt in a golden mist of chivalry and 


The Faerie Queene 

romance, populous with knight-errants of divine purpose 
and indomitable prowess. 

Strangely enough. The Faerie Queene has not yet received 
any adequate exploration from this point of view, though 
there can be little doubt such a study of it would amply 
reward the student, casting fresh light on well-known persons 
and situations, or, at (ill events, presenting them in unfamiliar 
attitudes and aspects. To the moral allegory, some atten- 
tion has been given, but to the historical very little. Years 
ago Sir Walter Scott, reviewing in the Quarterly Review Todd's 
Edition of Spenser, expressed his regret that these historical 
allusions had not been more carefully studied, Upton alone 
having given them any recognition. “ The ingenuity of a 
commentator,” he writes, ” would have been most usefully 
employed in deciphering what ' for avoiding of jealous 
opinions and misconstructions * our author did not choose to 
leave open to the contemporary reader.” Of course such a 
study is quite distinct from the purely poetic enjoyment of 
The Faerie Queene, and is not necessary to any one who cares 
merely for the melody of its verse or for its exquisite fanciful- 
ness. But no one who wishes to appreciate the work of 
Spenser in its entirety, to understand his art as fully as may 
be, and to consider his mind as well as his art, no one w|io 
wishes thoroughly to survey and comprehend one of the 
masterpieces of English literature from all points of view, 
carFafford to neglect a field of investigation so large and so 
fruitful. Only he who so explores The Faerie Queene will 
recognise how solidly it is based upon actuality and fact. It 
may seem to be one of the most purely aerial of poems, to be 
but an estate in cloudland, and to appertain altogether to 
the skies; but in very truth its foundations are firmly planted 
in the England of hpenscr's time, and its fine-woven parapets 
and heaven-piercing pinnacles arc not mere whiffs and shapes 
of mist, but concrete things, however delicately refined and 
veiled. This dreamer of dreams was assuredly a very pnictical 
and efficient member of the workaday world ; and his vnsions 
are not so unreal and unsubstantial as a careless reader might 
think, are not mere airy nothings, but, indeed, subtilised and 
spiritual expressions of present and instant realities. They 
are the idealisations of actual men and actual deeds; and in 
then^we see, as in a glass, the great Elizabethan age in all its 
fervent, eager movement, with all its hopes and fears, its 
passions of love and of hate, its anathemas and its adorations. 

Introduction xi 

It was certainly Spenser's design to make our great war 
with Spain a central event of his jK)em, though such a design 
was not to be carried out» and probably, had Spenser’s cir- 
cumstances been much more fav^ourable, could not have been 
carried out, at least with any adequateness. But he un- 
doubtedly set it before him. He distinctly announces it in 
the nth Canto of the First Book, whenfabout to describe the 
battle between St. George and the dragon, he invokes the Muse 
to gently cf)me into his “ feeble breast.” And in his sonnet 
addressed to Lord Howard of Effingham, one df those prefixed 
to The Faerie Queeuc, he seems to anticipate this promised 
performance — to write as if it was actually executed in the 
first three Books, and the Conqueror of the Armada were 
already duly celebrated. 

Upton conjectured that Marinell in some sort repre.sentcd 
this famous f.ord Howard, but such an identification is 
scarcely satisfactory. More probably Spenser .sanginnely 
pictures what was so vividly conceived and confidently in- 
tended as actually performed. Of his purpose there can be 
no question. Jissex, too, was, and was to be celebrated. But 
the supreme figure of his poem is she whose* name is perjictu- 
ally on the lips of contemporary poetry, the groat ipicen 
whom her people idolised, and whom our own time, in sjiite 
of many fierce, and ev^cn virulent attacks, regards still as one 
of the greatest English Sovereigns. Under one form or 
another Queen Elizabeth is almost ommjiresent througlffiut 
The Faerie Queene. Gloriana, Belphcebc, Bnlomartis, Mer- 
cilla— each is none other than Queen J-'lizabcth. 

“ In that h'airv Quo n,” writfs Spnisrr to Kaln^h, “ I m^an ^lory in rnv 
gfiiieral inlrntmii, but in my i), I omrcivc tlir ni cxri-llcnt ainl 
glorious piTson of our s.»\triMKn the Queen, an<l hf*r kingtl-nn in h'.iiry land. 
And yet in wme places ehe i do otherwise shado:, her I'or, considering 
be:u'eth tvxo pcrs<jns, the one of a mo«.t royal Qiirf*ri or l•.mJ)res«4, the oihcr 
(»f a mt)St virtuous and beautiful Laily, this l.ilter p.irl in some pl.iee^ I <|o 
cxpiess in nelplnebe, fashioning her name according to yf>ur own ••xrfllnit 
conceipl f>f C>ntlna, Thnebe and Cynllii.i b«*ing both n. lines <•{ Ili.ina ” 

Thus, that there is a corrcspon<lencc between Belplnebc 
and Queen Elizabeth, is no idle conjecture of an over-curious 
commentator. But, on the other hand, the correspondence 
must not be pushed too Lir; we must not insist on identity in 
all actions and respects. Sjxjiiser does not surrender Ir^nsell 
to a mere imitation or reflection of a certain set of facts, ife 
retains the right of variation or of addition. In other words. 

xii The Faerie Queene 


the correspondences between his personae and living people 
are not servile ; they are general rather than particular. 

Queen Elizabeth's arch-enemy, Philip II. of Spain, is more 
than once suggested or presented to Spenser's readers, though 
probably his completer portrait was to have been given in 
the Books that were never written. Unquestionably he is 
denoted by Gerioneo ^n the Fifth Book — a Book remarkable 
for its many unmi,stakable, and scarcely at all disguised 
historical allusions. The rhyming argument of Canto X. 
runs thus: — 

Prince Arthur takes the Enterprise 
For Belgee for to fight. 

Gerioneo’s Scneschall 

He slayes in Beige’s right. 

Evidently “ Gcrioneo’s Scneschall " is the Spanish commander 
in the low countries. And Prince Arthur here, as elsewhere, 
though perhaps not always, signifies the Earl of Leicester. 
If it shocks us that such a very second-rate character as 
Robert Dudley should have served as the original of Spenser’s 
Prince Arthur, we must remember that Spenser saw that 
handsome but not high-natured nobleman with different eyes 
from ours, from a very different standpoint, in a very different 
atmosphere. And so, when in Canto XII. we are told how — 

Artegall doth Sir Biirbon aide, 

And blames for changing shield; 

He with the great Grantorto fights, 

And slaieth him in field, 

the references to Henri Quatre and his change of religion are 
made sufficiently obvious to the most careless reader. The 
connection of Ducssa and Mary Queen of Scots in Canto IX. 
was so patent as to give extreme annoyance to James VI. of 
Scotland. We learn from a letter to Lord Burghley from 
the English ambassador at Edinburgh that great offence was 
conceived by the King against Edmund Spenser for publish- 
ing in print in the second part of The Faerie Queene (i.e. in the 
second three books, published — 1596), “ some dishonourable 
effects," as the King deemed, against himself and his mother 

Thus it is clear, in respect of Spenser’s material, that, 
largely as he borrowed from books — especially from the 
Classics and from the Italians — he borrowed yet more largely 
from contemporary society and history, and that in his great 
poem in a very full and special sense he mirrors the events 

Introduction xiii 

and the personages of his own age. But, of course, such 
historical interpretations arc quite distinct from poetical 
studies. Obviously, the first duty of a poem is to be poetical, 
not historical, or ethical, or metaphysical. 

Beyond question, what moved Spenser to write was a 
genuine poetic impulse. As we have seen, his mind was 
indeed profoundly interested in the groat movements of his 
time; he was a thoroughly intelligent and devoted Protestant; 
he admired and cultivated “ the new learning with rare 
ability and fervent delight; he was penetratefi and pervaded 
by a passionate patriotism. But in addition to all these 
incitements and motives he was actuated by a real creative 
instinct. He sang because he must, not only because people 
listened, and there was so much to say. His heart was hot 
within him; and while he was thus musing, the fire kindled, 
and at the last he " spake with his tongue.*' He sang, not 
because he was learned — an epithet often assigned him by 
his contemporaries ^ — or an intense votary of the Reforma- 
tion or the Renascence, but because his imagination longed 
for outward embodiment, because it must needs give birth 
to its divine conceptions, because it insisted on relief and 
deliverance. In other words, Spenser's poetry is a true 
injarnation of a poetical spirit, not the elaborate effort of 
a partisan, literary, political, religious. 

It is his inexhaustible freshness and abundance of fancy, 
combined with his astonishing dominion over language ffnd 
over rime and rhythm, that has won for Spenser his distin- 
guishing title of “ the Poets* Poet.** The material he uses is 
sometimes prosaic enough, as especially in the Second Book, 
in his description of the House of Alma, otherwise the human 
body, in Canto IX., or in his versification of Geoffrey of Mon- 
mouth’s History of the Britons in the following Canto; but 
under any and all circumstances, whether he is happy in his 
immediate subject or not, whatever are the strange tasks he 
sets himself, or ponderous burdens he undertakes, he never 
ceases to be a poet, and it can never be forgoten by any 
capable and appreciative reader that he is a poet. In most 
great poets there is a certain vein of prose which ** crops up ** 
from time to time. No one is wise at all hours, says an old 
Latin adage; certainly, it is true that no one is poetical at 
all hours. Instead of flying and soaring according to ^heir 

* Drydcn too remarks: “ No man was ever born with a greater genius 
than Spenser, or had more knowledge to support it." 


The Faerie Queene 

proper form of movement, we see poets walking, or even 
crawling, />., their speech, in Horace's phrase, becomes 
''pedestrian." ^ Now, whatever may be Spenser's deficien- 
cies and faults, it seems true that no one ever lived more 
constantly and fully in the world of imagination than he, — 
tliat, though others may have risen higher, no one ever sank 
out of his empyrcat> and touched the gross earth less fre- 
quently or fatally. , “ Of all the poets,” writes Hazlitt, “he 
is the most poetical.” Whatever we may think of his Fairy 
land in other I'espects, there can be no question that it is a 
province of poetry. 

Spenser created a new world, which, from its first appear- 
ance in the firmament of literature, had a special charm and 
fascination for his brother artists, who, generation after 
generation, delighted to wander in it. 

There are several traces in Shakespeare’s Plays of his 
familiarity with Spenser’s Poems, and personally they must 
have been well acquainted, meeting often no doubt at the 
house of their common friend Lord Essex. Not. however, to 
insist on imperfectly a.scertaincd relations, no less a person 
than Milton declared Spenser was his “ poetical father and 
without any such declaration we should confidently have 
inferred this spiritual sonship, so evident is Spenser’s inlluepce 
on Milton’s earlier poetry. In the Areopagitica also Milton 
.speaks of “ our sage and serious Spenser whom I dare be 
known to think a better teacher than Scotus and Aquinas.” 
Hryden and Pope are by no means poets of the Spenserian 
fype; yet ot them testify their debt and their admiration. 
With the revival of the imagination in the last century arose 
a yet warmer enthusiasm for Spenser Thomson’s lines in his 
Summer are highly appreciative as well as discriminating: — 

Nor shall my verse that elder hard forget, 

The gentle Spenser, Taney’s pli‘ iMng son, 

Who, like a copious river, poiirM his soul; 

O’er .ill the m.i/es <>{ enchanted ground. 

Certainly on what is best of Thomson’s work, as on The Castle 
of Indolence, the influence of Spenser is very ileeply impressed. 
Gray found the perusal of Spenser one of his best incentives 
and excitements, when he wished to cultivate the poetical 
mood. The air of The Faerie Queene seemed to arouse and 
invigL^ratc his often languid faculties. To Wordsworth. 

‘Srrlh^r £/>. 2, i 251, Sat 2 vi 17, .-I.P. 95. 


Byron, Shelley, Keats, that same air was scarcely less delight 
ful and scarcefy le^s benign. 

Amongst our poets Wordsworth uas perhaps one of tlu' 
least susceptible to literary impressions, and yet we see with 
whiit grateful joy he submitted himself to the s\s“tt Inlhience 
of Spenser. Prob.dily the first lines Keats wrote were headctl 
In ujntation of Sht')iscy. Possibly the i^ower of Spenser over 
him at that time was to a large extent jndirect. that is, was 
exercised through intermediate wnteis, but to the end of his 
life, acting indirectly or directly, it was a defermining forc('. 
A last century writer, one Dr. Sewi‘11. nitide the memorable 
remark that “ more ])oets have spuing from Spenser than all 
Ollier English writers ” 

'i'hus, whatever Spenser’s defects, however true it m.iv b<' 
that he is wanting in humour, that in .irch. using his gr.immar 
and his vocabuluv lu* “ writ no Kuiginige, that his chai.icteis 
lack at times human interest, and whate\ er else /oiluses oi 
even well-meaning and generous critics may nige .igamst him, 
it remains that to highly sensitive natun's he is a poet of 
exceptional and of sovereign charm, of an inspir.ilion tJiat is 
singularly full and ovei flowing, so that — 

Hither, as tn their fciiiit iiii, uthn ‘'1 iis 
Kepaiiiiig in tluir urns <lraw golilcn li/dit. 

Tn spite of all his sujHTabundance of fantasy, his w’ant f>f 
human substance, and his epic confusions in / hr tuirnr (Jucmir, 
Spenser sccuiely holds one of the chief thrones of luiglish 
poetry, and around no one of our poetic kings is there gathered 
:i court more rem.irkable foi its selectness, its culture, and its 
devotion; and on iiim, as we haw mentioned, has Ikhui con- 
ferred by right duine the significant “style” of the Poets’ 
I'oct. As we have seen, from Dravton and Paleigh and m.'in\' 
another Eh/.ibcthan down to Wordsworth .ind s and 
m.iny iinr)thcr singer of the niiKdeenth century, all the jxiets, 
with scarcely an exception, rise uji and call him blessed for 
three hundred years now he has been one of the siipn-me 
inspiring influences of our literature If his work is not 
perfect, yet it suggests .a sense of perfection, that is, it brings 
viMclly before us one visited and po.ssccssed by visions of ran- 
loveliness, and striving with nc:) common cunning and lU) 
common success to embody them worthily and immortally 
And. whatever its impcrfectn>n or imj>erfcctions as a wholf*. it 
contains pictures and passages of incompar.ible finish and 

xvi The Faerie Queene 

beauty, pictures and passages as nearly perfect as anything 
that has proceeded from human pen. “ The heavenly Una 
with her milk-white lamb ** will remain to the end of time one 
of the fairest and sweetest figures to be found in books. He 
who could create so exquisite a being was unquestionably 
and beyond all protest an artist of the highest order, even 
though he failed to accomplish any other like achievement. 
But indeed The Faecte Queene abounds in stanzas and in 
passages of surpassing beauty, and in signs and tokens of a 
nature haunted and inspired by the very spirit of grace and 
loveliness. ^ 

The Text and Glossary here used are those of Dr. R. Morris, 
by kind permission of Messrs. Macmillan & Co. 



WORKS. Shepheard*s Calendar, ist edition, 1579; reproduced in facsimile 
by Oskar Sommer, 1890; re-edited by Prof. C. H. Herford, 1895; Faerie 
Queene, 1590 (first 3 books) and 1596; 2nd edition, 1596; Daphnatda, 1591; 
Complaints (nine smaller poems), 1591; Colin Clout's Come Home Again, 
i505i Amoretti, !$()$•, Fowre Hymns, 1506; Prothalamion, 1596; Prosopopoia, 
or Mother Hubberd's Tale, 1613 (had appeared in Complaints). 

PROSE. Three Letters to Gabriel Harvey, 1580; View of the State of Ireland, 
in dialogue, written 1596, 1633. 

COLLECTED WORKS. First collected edition, 1611; ed. A. B. Grosart. 9 
vols., 1882-94; ed. E. Greenlaw, C. G. Osgood, and F". M. Padelford (vari- 
orum edition), 9 vols., 1932-49. 

BmoRAPHY AND CRITICISM. B. E. C. Davis : Edmund Spenser, 1933; 
Janet Spens: Spenser's Fatrie Queen. An Interpretation, 1934; A. C. 
Judson: The Life of Edmund Spenser, 1945; L. Bradner: Edmund Spenser 
and the Fairie Queen, 1948. 


The most high, mtghiie, and magnificent 

Renowmed for pietie, veriue, and all gratious government, 


by the grace of God, 

Queene of England, Fraunce, and Ireland, 
and of V irginia, 

Defendour of the Faith, etc,, 

Her most humble servaunt 


doth, in all humilitie, 
dedicate, present, and consecrate 
these his labours. 

To live with the eternitie of her fame. 



Introduction y 


I. A Letter of the Author’s i 

II. Verses Addressed to the Author ..... 5 

III. Verses Addressed by the Author ..... 9 

The First Booke, contayning the Legend of the Knight of the 

Red Crosse, or of Htdinessc . . . . . , .17 

The Second Booke, contayning the Legend of Sir Guyon, or of 

Temperaunce . . . . . . . , .169 

The J'hird Books, contayning the Legend of Brilfiin.irti-, or of 



Expounding his whole intention in the course of this works : 
which, for that tt giveth great light to the reader, for 
the better understanding is hereunto annexed. 

To the Right Noble and Valorous 


Lord Wardein of the Stanneryes, and Her Maiesties 
Liefetenaunt of the County of Cornewayll. 

Sir, knowing how doubtfully all Allegories may be construed, 
and this booke of mine, which 1 have entituled the Faery Qtteene, 
being* a cofitinued Allegory, or darke conceit, I haue thought 
good, as well for avoyding of gealous opinions and misconstrue- 
Hons, as also for your better light in reading thereof, (being so by 
you commanded,) to discover unto you the general intention an^ 
meaning, which in the whole course thereof I have fashioned, 
without expressing of any particular purposes, or by accidents, 
therein occasioned. The generall end therefore of all the booke 
is to fashion a gentleman or noble person in vertuous and gentle 
discipline : Which for that I conceived shoulde be most plausible 
and pleasing, being coloured with an historicall fiction, the which 
the most part of men delight to read, rather for variety of matter 
then for profile of the ensample, I chose the history e of King 
Arthure, as most fitte for the excellency of his person, being made 
famous by many mens former workes, and also furthest from the 
daunger of envy, and suspition of present time. In which 1 have 
followed all the antique Poets historicall ; first Homere, who in 
the Persons of Agamemnon and Ulysses hath ensampled a good 
governour and a vertuous man, the one in his llias, the other in 
his Odysseis : then Virgil, whose like intention was to doe ^in 
the person of Aeneas: after him Ariosto comprised them both 
in his Orlando: and lately Tasso dissevered them againe, and 


The Faerie Queene 

formed hoik parts in two persons^ namely iJiai pari which they in 
Philosophy call Eihice, or verities of a private many coloured in 
his Rinaldo ; ike other named Politice in his Godfredo. By 
ensampU of which exceUente PoeiSy 1 labour to pourtraict in 
Arthurs y before he was hingy the image of a brave knight y perfected 
in the twelve private moraU vertueSy as Aristotle hcUh devised; 
the which is the purpose of these first twelve bookes : which if 1 
finde to be well accffpied, I may be perhaps encoraged to frame the 
other part of poUiticke vertues in his persoUy after that hee came 
to be king, • 

To somCy I knoWy this Methods will seeme iispleasaunt, which 
had rather have good discipline delivered plainly in way of precepts, 
or sermoned at large, as they use, then thus clowdily enwrapped in 
AUegoricaR devises. But such, me seeme, should be satisfide 
with the use of these dayes, seeing all things accounted by their 
showesy and nothing esteemed of, that is not delightfuU and pleasing 
to commune sense. For this cause is Xenophon preferred before 
Plato, for that the one, in the exquisite depth of his judgement, 
formed a Commune welth, such as it should be; hut the other 
in the person of Cyrus, and the Persians, fashioned a govemement, 
such as might best be: So much more profitable and gratious 
is doctrine by ensample, then by rule. So haue 1 laboured to doe 
in the person of Arthurs : whome I conceive, after his long ^iuca- 
lion by Timon, to whom he was by Merlin delivered to be brought 
ui>y so soone as he was borne of the Lady Igrayne, to have seene 
df/i a dream or vision the Faery Queene, with whose excellent 
beauty ravished, he awaking resolved to seeke her out; and so 
being by Merlin armed, and by Timon throughly instructed, he 
went to seeke her forth in Faerye land. In that Faery Queene 1 
means glory in my generall intention, but in my particular I con- 
ceive the most excellent and glorious person of our soveraine the 
Queene, aftd her kingdoms in Faery land. And yet, in some 
places els, 1 doe otherwise shadow her. For considering she 
beareth two persons, the one of a most royall Queene or Empresse, 
the other of a most vertuous and beauiifuU Lady, this latter part 
in some places I doe expresse in Belphcebe, fashioning her name 
according to your owns excellent conceipt of Cynthia, {Phoebe and 
Cynthia being both names of Diana), So in the person of Prince 
Arthurs 1 sette forth magnificence in particular ; which vertue, 
for that {according to Aristotle and the rest) it is the perfection oj 
cdl^ the rest, and conteineth in it them all, therefore in the whole 
course I mention the deedes of Arthurs apfdyable to that vertue, 
which I write of in that books. But of the xii. other vertues, 1 

A Letter of the Authors 3 

make xii, other knights the patrones, for the mare variety of the 
history : Of which these three bookes contayn three. 

The first of the kntght of the Redcrosse, in whotne I expresse 
Holynes : The seconde of Sir Guyon, in whotne I sette forth 
Temperaunce : The third of BritomartiSy a Lady Knight, in whome 
1 picture Chastity. But, because the beginning of the whole 
worke seemeth abrupte, and as depending upon other antecedents, 
it needs that ye know the occasion of these tliree knights seueraU 
adventures. For the Methode of a Poet histdrical is not such, 
as of an Historiographer. For an Historiographe% discourseth 
ofaffayres orderly as they were donne, accounting as well the times 
as the actions ; but a Poet thrusteth into the middest, even where 
it most concerneth him, and there recoursing to the thinges fore- 
paste, and divining of thinges to come, maketh a pleasing Analysis 
of all. 

The beginning therefore of my history, if it were to be told by 
an Historiographer should be the twelfth booke, which is the last ; 
where I devise that the Faery Queene kept her Annuall feaste xii. 
dayes ; uppon which xii. severall dayes, the occasions of the xii. 
severcdl ^ventures hapned, which, being undertaken by xii. 
severall knights, are in these xii. books severally handled and 
discoursed. The first was this. In the beginning of the feast, 
there presented him selfe a tall clownishe younge man, who falling 
before ike Queene of Faeries desired a boone {as the manner then 
was) which during that feast she might not refuse ; which was 
that hee might have the atchievement of any adventure, which^ 
during that feaste should happen : that being grawitcd, he rested 
him on the fioore, unfilte through his rusticity for a better place. 
Soone after entred a faire Ladye in mourning weedes, riding on a 
white Asse, with a dwarfe behind her leading a warlike steed, that 
bore the Armes of a knight, and his speare in the dwarfes hand. 
Shee, falling before the Queene of Faeries, complayned that her 
father and mother, an ancient King and Queene, had bene by an 
huge dragon many years shut up in a brasen Castle, who then 
suffred them not to yssew ; and therefore besought the Faery 
Queene to assygne her some one of her knights to take on him that 
exployt. Presently that clownish person, upstarting, desired that 
adventure : whereat the Queene much wondering, and the Lady 
much gainesaying, yet he earnestly importuned his desire. In 
the end the Lady told him, that unlesse that armour which she 
brought, would serve him {that is, the armour of a Christian man 
specified by Saint Paul, vi. Ephes.) that he could not succeed %n 
that erUer prise ; which being forthwith put upon him, with dewe 

4 The Faerie Queene 

furnitures thereunto j he seemed the goodliest man in al that company, 
and was well liked of the Lady, And eftesoones taking on him 
knighlhoody and mounting on that straunge Courser, he went 
forth with her on that adventure : where beginneth the first hooke, 

A gentle kmght was pricking on the playne, etc. 


The second day there came in a Palmer, hearing an Infant 
with bloody hands, whose Parents he complained to have bene 
slayn by an*Enchaunteresse called Acrasia ; and therefore craved 
of the Faery Queene, to appoint him some knight to performe that 
adventure ; which being assigned to Sir Guy on, he presently went 
forth with that same Palmer : which is the beginning of the second 
booke, and the whole subject thereof The third day there came tn a 
Groome, who complained before the Faery Queene, that a vile 
Enchaunter, called Busirane, had in hand a most faire Lady, 
called Amoretta, whom he kept in most grievous torment, because 
she would not yield him the pleasure of her body. Whereupon 
Sir Scudamour, the lover of that Lady, presently tooke on him 
that adventure. But being unable to performe it by reason of the 
hard Enchauntments, after long sorrow, in the end met with 
Britomartis, who succoured him, and re skewed his hue. 

But by occasion hereof many other adventures are intertn^dled ; 
but rather as Accidents then intendments : As the love of Brito- 
mart, the overthrow of Marinell, the misery of Florimell, the 
mSfertnousnes of Bdpheebe, the lasciviousnes of Hellenora, and many 
the like. 

Thus much. Sir, 1 have briefly overronne to direct your under- 
standing to the wel-head of the History ; that from thence gathering 
the whole intention of the conceit, ye may as in a handfidl gripe 
al the discourse, which otherwise may happily seeme tedious and 
confused. So, humbly craving the continuance of your honorable 
favour towards me, and tK eternall establishment oj your happtnes, 
1 humbly take leave. 

23. January 1589, 
Yours most humbly affectionate, 

Ed. Spenser. 




A Vision upon this conccipt of the Faery ^uecne 

^^E thought I saw the grave where Linra lay, 

Within that Temple where the vestall flame 
Was wont to burne; and passing by that way 
To see that buried dust of living fame, 

Whose tumbe fairc love, and fairer vertue kept. 

All suddeinly I saw the Faery Queene: 

At whose approch the soule of Petrarke wept, 

And from thenceforth those graces were not scene; 

For they this Queene attended, in whose steed 
Oblivion laid him downe on Lauras herse. 

Hereat the hardest stones were seene to bleed. 

And grones of buried ghostes the hevens did perse: 

Where Homers spright did tremble all for griefe. 

And curst th^accesse of that celestiall theife. 

Another of the same 

The prayse of meaner wits this worke like profit brings, 

As doth the Cuckoes song delight when Philumena sings. 

If thou hast formed right true vertues face herein, 

Vertue her selfe can best disrerne to whom they written bin. 

If thou hast beauty praysd, let her sole lookes divine 
Judge if ought therein be amis, and mend it by her eine. 

If Chastitie want ought, or Tempcraunce her dew. 

Behold her Princely mind aright, and write thy Queene anew. 
Meane while she shall perceive, how' far her vertues sore 
Above the reach of all that live, or such as wrote of yore: 

And thereby will excuse and favour thy good will ; 

Whose vertue can not be exprest, but by an Angels quill. 

Of me no lines arc lov'd, nor letters are of price, 

Of all which speak our English tongue, but those of thy device. 

W. R. 



The Faerie Queene 

To the learned Shepehcard 

Collyn, I see, by thy new taken taske, 

Some sacred fury hath enricht thy braynes, 

That leades thy muse in haughty verse to maske, 

And loath the layes that longs to lowly swaynes; 

I'hat lifts thy ncftes from Sheplicardes unto kinges: 

So like the lively Larkc that mounting singes. 

Thy lovel)^ Rosolinde seemes now forlorne, 

And all thy gentle flockes forgotten q night: 

Thy chaunged hart now holdes thy pypes in scorne, 
Those prety pypes that did thy mates delight; 

Those trusty mates, that loved thee so w'cll ; 

Whom thou gav^st mirth, as they gave ihee the bell. 

Yet, as thou earst with thy sweete roundelay es 
Didst stirre to glee our laddes in homely bowers; 

So moughtst thou now in these refyne<l layes 
Delight the daintic cares of iiigher powers: 

And so mought they, in their deepc skanning skill. 

Alow and grace our Collyns flowing quyll. 

And faire befall tliat Faery Queene of thine, 

In w'hose faire c\ es love hnekt with vertiie sittes; 
iMilusing, by those bewties fyers devyne, 

Sueli high coneeites into thy huml>le wittes, 

As raised hath poore pastors oaten reedes 
From rustick tunes, to ehaunt heroique deedcs. 

S(^ mought thy Rederosse knight with h^q^py hand 
\'u torious lie in that fain* Hands iiglit, 

\\ liH h thou dost vayle in Type of Faery land, 

Kli/as blessed held, that Albion hight: 

I'hat shieldes her fnendes, and warren her mightic foes, 
Yet still with people, peace, and plentie flowe.^. 

But (jolly shepheard) though w ith pleasing style 
'I'liou feast the humour of the Fourtly trayne. 

Let not conceipt thy setled scnce beguile, 

Xe daunted be through envy or disdaine. 

Subject thy dome to her Empvring sjiright, 

From whence thy Muse, and all the world, takes light. 

lloin NOLL. 


Verses Addressed to the Author 

Fayre Thamis streame, that from Ludds stately tow nc 
Runst payinj: tribute to the Ocean seas, 

Let all thy Nymphes and Syrens of renow ne 
Be silent, whyle this Bryttane Orpheus playes. 

Xere thy sweet bankes there lives that sacred (tow ne, 
Whose hand strowes Palme anti never-dyinj; bayes: 

Let all at once, with thy soft murmuring sj>wnc, 
Present her with this worthy Poets prayes ; 

For he hath taught hye drifts in shepehertU's weetles, 
And deepe conceites now singes in h'acru^s tleeils. 

(irave Muses, march in triumph and with pravst's; 
Our Cioddesse here hath given you leave to land; 
And biddes this rare dispenser of your grat es 
Bow downe his brow unto her sacred hand. 
Deserte findes dew in that most princely doome, 

In whose sweetc brest are all the Muses bredde: 

So did that great Augustus erst in Rooine 
With leaves of fame adornc his Poets hedde. 

Faire be the guerdon of your Faery Quce}it\ 

Fven of the fairest that the world hath scene! 


W hen stout Achilles heard of Helens r.ijie. 

And revenge the States of Circs-ce devisd, 
'Ihinking by shuglit the fatall warres to si.ijic. 

In womans weedes him sclfc he then disguisde , 

But this devise Ulysses soone did spy, 

And brought him forth the ch.iunt e of warre to try. 

W hen Spencer saw the fame was spredd so large. 
Through Faery lanrl, (jf tlaar renowned (,)ueene. 
Loth that his Muse should take so great a » li.uge. 
As in such haughty matter to be seem , 

To seeme a shepelie.ird then he nia<le his ( hoice; 
But S\dney heard him suig. and knew Ins \(nce. 

And as Ulysses brought faire 'I'lietis s(ame 
From his retyrefi life to men.ige armes. 

So S[>encer was by hyrlney’s spe.irhcs wonne 
To blaze her fame, not fearing future harrnes , 

F'or w'ell he knew, hu .Muse wouM soone liy tyri l 
In her high praise, that all the world admired. 

R. S. 

IL B. 

8 The Faerie Queene 

Yet as Achilles, in those warlike frayes, 

Did win the palme from all the Grecian Peeres, 
So Spenser now, to his immortall prayse, 

Hath wonne the Laurell quite from all his feres. 
What though his taske exceed a humaine witt, 
He is excus’d, sith Sidney thought it fitt. 

To looke upon a worke of rare devise 
The which a workman setteth out to view. 

And not to yield it the deserved prise 
That unto such a workmanship is dew, 

Doth either prove the judgement to be naught. 
Or els doth shew a mind with envy fraught. 

To labour to command a peece of worke, 

Which no man goes about to discommend, 

Would raise a jealous doubt, that there did lurke 
Some secret doubt whereto the prayse did tend ; 
For when men know the goodnes of the wyne, 
’Tis needlesse for the hoast to have a sygne. 

Thus then, to shew my judgement to be such 
As can discerne of colours blacke and white, 

As alls to free my minde from envies tuch, 

Ijmt never gives to any man his right, 

1 here pronounce this workmanship is such 
As that no pen can set it forth too much. 

And thus I hang a garland at the dore ; 

Not for to shew the goodness of the ware; 

But such hath beene the customc heretofore, 

And customes very hardly broken are ; 

And when your tast shall tell you this is trew, 
Then looke you give your hoast his utmost dew. 

W. L. 



Addressed^ by the Author of the Faerie Queene, 
TO VARIOUS Noblemen^ &c. 

To the Right honourable Sir Christopher* Hatton, Lord high 
Chauncelor of England, 

Those prudent heads, that with theire counsels wise 
Whylom the pillours of th* earth did sustaine, 

And taught ambitious Rome to tyrannise 
And in the neck of all the world to rayne, 

Oft from those grave affaires were wont abstainc, 

With the sweet Lady Muses for to play : 

So Ennius the elder Africane, 

So Maro oft did Caesars cares allay. 

So you, great Lord, that with your counscll sway 
The burdeine of this kingdom mightily. 

With like delightes sometimes may ok#* delay 
The rugged brow of carefull Policy, 

• And to these ydle rymes lend litle space, 

Which for their titles sake may find more grace. 

To the most honourable and excellent Lord the Earle of Esi"^^ 
Great Maister of the Horse to her Highnesse, and knight 
of the Noble order of the Garter, drc. 

Magnifickc Lord, whose vertucs excellent, 

Doe merit a most famous Poets witt 
To be thy living praises instrument. 

Yet doe not sdeigne to let thy name be writt 
In this base Poeme, for thee far unfitt: 

Nought is thy worth disparaged thereby; 

But when my Muse, whose fethers, nothing flitt, 

Doe yet but flagg, and lowly learne to fly, 

With bolder wing shall dare alofte to sty 
To the last praises of this Faery Queene; 

Then shall it make more famous memory 
Of thine Heroicke parts, such as they Ijecnc: 

Till then, vouchsafe thy noble countenaunce 
To these first labours needed furtheraunce. 


The Faerie Queene 


To the Right Honourable the Earle of Oxenfordy Lord high 
Chamberlayne of England, 6rc. 

Receive, most Noble Lord, in gentle gree, 

The unripe fruit of an unready wit ; 

Which by thy countenaunce doth crave to bee 
Defended from foule Envies poisnous bit. 

Which so to doe may thee right well befit, 

Sith th* antique glory of thine auncestry 
Under a shady vele is therein writ, 

And eke thine owne long living memory, 
Succeeding them in true nobility : 

And also for the love which thou doest beare 
To th* Heliconian ymps, and they to thee ; 

They unto thee, and thou to them, most deare : 
Deare as thou art unto thy selfe, so love 
That loves and honours thee, as doth behove. 

To the right honourable the Earle of N orlhumberland 

The sacred Muses have made alwaics dame 
To be the Nourses of nobility, 

And Registres of everlasting fame. 

To all that armes professe and chevalry. 

Then, by like right the noble Progeny, 

Which them succeed in fame and worth, are tyde 
T* embrace the service of sweete Poetry, 

By whose endevours they are glorifide ; 

And eke from all, of whom it is envide, 

To patronise the authour of their praise. 

Which gives them life, that els would soone have dide. 
And crownes their ashes with immortall baies. 

To thee, therefore, right noble Lord, I send 

This present of my paines, it to defend. 

To the Right Honourable the Earle of Ormond and Ossory 

Receive, most noble Lord, a simple taste 

Of the wilde fruit which salvage soyl hath bred ; 
Which, being through long wars left almost wastc^ 
With brutish barbansuic is overspredd: 

Verses Addressed by the Author 

And, in so faire a land as may be redd. 

Not one Parnassus nor one Helicone, 

Left for sweete Muses to be harbourerl, 

But where thy selfe hast thy brave mansione : 
There, in deede, dwel faire Graces many one, 

And gentle Nymphes, delights of learned wits; 

And in thy person, without panigon^. 

All goodly bountie and true honour sits. 

Such, therefore, as that wasted suyl doth yield, 
Receive, dear Lord, in worth, the fruit of bairen field. 

To the right honourable the Lord Ch. Ihmard, T^rd high Admiral 
of England, knight of the noble order of the Garter, and one 
of her Majesties privie Counsel, 

And ye, brave Lord, whose goodly personage 
And noble deeds, each other garnishing, 

Make you ensample to the present age 
Of th’ old Heroes, whose famous ofspring 
The antique Poets wont so much to sing; 

In this same Pageaunt have a worthy place, 

Sith those huge castles of Castilian King, 

That vainly threat ned kingdomes to displace, 

Like flying doves ye did before you chacc; 

And that proud people, woxen insolent 
Through many victories, didst first deface: 

Thy praises everlasting monument 
Is in this verse engraven semblably. 

That it may live to all posterity. 

To the most renowmed and valiant Lord, the Lord Grey of Wilton, 
knight oj the Noble order oj the Gutter, ^c, * 

^lost Noble Lord, the pillor of my life. 

And Patrone of my Muses pupillage; 

Through whose large bountie, poured on me rife 
In the first season of my feeble age, 

I now doe live, bound yours by vassalage; 

Sith nothing ever may redeeme, nor reave 
Out of your endlesse debt, so sure a gage, 

Vouclisafe in worth this small guift to receave. 

12 The Faerie Queene 

Which in your noble hands for pledge I leave 
Of all the rest that I am tyde t* account: 

Rude rymes, the which a rustick Muse did weave 
In savadge soyle, far from Pamasso Mount, 

And roiiglily wrought in an unlearned Loome : 

The which vouchsafe, dear Lord, your favorable doome. 

To the right noble and valorous knight. Sir Walter Raleigh, Lord 
War dein the Stanneryes, and liefienaunt of Cornewaile 

To thee, that art the sommers Nightingale, 

Thy soveraine Goddesses most deare delight, 

Why doe I send this rusticke Madrigale, 

That may thy tunefull eare unseason quite? 

Thou onely fit this Argument to write, 

In whose high thoughts Pleasure hath built her bowre, 

And dainty love learnd sweetly to endite. 

My rimes I know unsavory and sowre, 

To tast the streames that, like a golden showre. 

Flow from thy fruitfull head, of thy love's praise; 

Fitter, perhaps, to thonder Martiall stowre, 

When so thee list thy lofty Muse to raise : 

Yet, till that thou thy Poeme wilt make knowne, 

Let thy faire Cinthias praises be thus rudely shownc. 

To the right honourable the Lord Burleigh, Lord high 
Threasurer of England 

To you, right noble Lord, whose carcfull brest 
To menage of most grave affaires is bent; 

And on whose mightie shoulders most doth rest 
The burdein of this kingdomes governement. 

As the wide compasse of the firmament 
On Atlas mighty shoulders is upstayd. 

Unfitly I these ydle rimes present. 

The labor of lost time, and wit unstayd : 

Yet if their deeper scnce be inly wayd, 

And the dim vele, with which from commune vew 
Their fairer parts are hid, aside be layd, 

Perhaps not vaine they may appeare to you. 

'Such as they be, vouchsafe them to receave. 

And wipe their faults out of your censure grave. £. S. 

Verses Addressed by the Author 13 

To the right honourable the Earle of Cumberland 

Redoubted Lord, in whose corageous mind 
The flowre of chevalry, now bloosming faire, 

Doth promise fruite worthy the noble kiiul 
Which of their praises have left you the haire; 

To you this humble present 1 prepartf. 

For love of vertqe and of Martiall praise ; 

To which though nobly ye inclined are, , 

As goodlie well ye shew’d in late assaies. 

Yet brave ensample of long passed dales, 

In which trew honor yee may fashioned see, 

To like desire of honor may ye raise, 

And fill your mind with magnanimitee. 

Receive it. Lord, therefore, as it was ment. 

For honor of your name and high descent. E. S. 

To the right honourable the J.ord of Hunsdofty high Chambcrlaine 
to her Majesty 

Renowmed Lord, that, for you worthinesse 
And noble deeds, have your deserved place 
High in the favour of that Emperesse, 

The worlds sole glory and her sexes grace: 

Here eke of right have you a worthie place, 

Both for your nearnes to that Faerie Quccnc 
And for your ownc high merit in like cace: 

Of which, apparaunt proofe was to Ixj scene, 

VMien that tumultuous rage and fearfull dee n* 

Of Northerne rebels ye did pacify. 

And their disloiall powre defaced clenc, 

The record of enduring memory. 

Live, Lord, for ever in this lasting verse. 

That all posteritie thy honor may reherse. E. S. 

To the right honourable the I.ord of Buchhurst, one of her Majesties 
piivie Counsdl 

In vain I thinke, right honourable Lord, 

By this rude rime to memorize thy name. 

Whose learned Muse hath writ her owne record 
In golden verse, worthy immortal fame: 

b443 D45/5m 

14 The Faerie Queene 

Thou much more fit (were leasure to the same) 
Thy gracious Soverains praises to compile, 

And her imperiall Majestic to frame 
In loftie numbers and heroicke stile. 

But, sith thou maist not so, give leave a while 
To baser wit his power therein to spend. 

Whose gro^e defaults thy daintie pen may file. 
And unadvised oversights amend. 

But evermore vouchsafe it to maintaine 
Against vile Zoilus backbitings vaine. 

To the right honourable Sir Fr, Walsingham, knight, principall 
Secretary to her Majesty, and one of her honourable privy 

That Mantuane Poetes incompared spirit. 

Whose girland now is set in highest place, 

Had not Mccaenas, for his worthy merit. 

It first advaunst to great Augustus grace. 

Might long perhaps have lien in silence bace, 

Ne bene so much admir’d of later age. 

This lowly Muse, that learns like steps to trace. 

Flies for like aide unto your Patronage, 

That are the great Mecasnas of this age. 

As wel to al that civil artes professe, 

As those that are inspir’d with Martial rage. 

And craves protection of her feeblenesse: 

Which if ye yield, perhaps ye may her rayse 
In bigger tunes to sound your living prayse. E. S. 

To the right noble Lord and most valiaunt Captaine, Sir John 
Norris, knight. Lord president of Mounster 

Who ever gave more honourable prize 

To the sweet Muse then did the Martiall crew, 

That their brave deeds she might immortalize 
In her shril tromp, and sound their praises dew.^ 

Who then ought more to favour her than you, 

Moste noble Lord, the honor of this age. 

And Precedent of all that armes ensue 
Whose warlike prowesse and manly courage, 


Verses Addressed by the Author. 

Tempred with reason and advizement sage, 

Hath fild sad Belgicke with victorious spoile; 

In Fraunce and Ireland left a famous gage; 

And lately shakt the Lusitanian soilc. 

Sith, then, each where thou hast dispredd thy fame. 

Love him that hath eternized your name. E. S. 

To the right honourable and most vertuous Lady the Countesse of 


Remembraunce of that most ITeroicke spirit, 

The hevens pride, the glory of our daies. 

Which now triumpheth, through immortall merit 
Of his brave vertues, crownd with lasting baies 
Of hevenlie blis and everlasting praies; 

Who first my Muse did lift out of the (lore, 

To sing his sweet delights in lowlie laies; 

Bids me, most noble Lady, to adore 
His goodly image, living evermore 
In the divine rescmblaunce of your fare; 

Which with your vertues ye eml)cllish more, 

• And native beauty deck with hevenlie grace: 

For his, and for your ownc especial sake. 

Vouchsafe from him this token in good worth to take. 

E. S. 

To the most vertuous and beauti/ull Lady, the Lady Carew 

Ne may I, without blot of cndlcsse blame, 

You, fairest Lady, leave out of this place; 

But with remembraunce of your gracious name, 
Wherewith that courtly garlond most ye grace 
And deck the world, adorne these verses base. 

Not that these few lines can in them comprise 
Those glorious ornaments of hevenly grace, 

Wherewith ye triumph over feeble eyes. 

And in subdued harts do tyranyse; 

For thereunto doth need a golden quill. 

And silver leaves, them rightly to devise; 

But to make humble present of good will: 

Which, whenas timely meanes it purchase may. 

In ampler wise it selfe will forth display. E. S. 

The Faerie Queene 

1 6 

To all the gratious and heautifull Ladies in the Court 

The Chian Peincter, when he was requirde 
To pourtraict Venus in her perfect hew, 

To make his worke more absolute, desird 
Of all the fairest ^aides to have the vew. 

Much more me needs, to draw the semblant trcw 
Of beauties Queene, the worlds sole wonderment, 

To sharpe my sence with sundry beauties vew, 

And steale from each some part of ornament. 

If all the world to seeke I overwent, 

A fairer crew yet no where could I see 

Then that brave court doth to mine eie present, 

That the worlds pride seemes gathered there to bee. 

Of each a part I stole by cunning thefte: 

Forgive it me, faire Dames, sith lesse ye have not lefte. 

E. S. 



Crosse, or of Holenesse 

I. Lo ! I, the man whose Muse whylomc did maske, 

As time her tauj^lit, m lowly Shephards weeds, 

Am now enforst, a farre unfitter taske, 

For trumpets sterne to chanj^e mine Oaten reeds, 

And sing of Knights and Laclics gentle deeds; 

Whose praises having slept in silence long, 

Me, all too meane, the sacred Muse arecds 
To blazon broadc emongst her learned throng: 

Fierce warres and faithful loves sluill moralize my song. 

II. Helpe then, O holy virgin ! chiefe of nyne, 

Thy weaker Novice to performe thy will ; 

Bay forth out of thine everlasting scrvne 
The antique rolles, which there lye hidden still. 

Of Faerie knights, and fayrest Tanaquill, 

Whom that most noble Rriton Prince so long 
Sought through the world, and suffered so much ill. 
That I must rue his undeserved wrong: 

O, helpe thou my weakc wit, and sharpen my dull tong ' 

ill. And thou, most dreaded impe of highest Jove, 

Faire Venus sonne, that with thy criicll dart 
At that good knight so cunningly didst rove. 

That glorious fire it kindled in his hart; 

Lay now thy deadly Heben bowe apart. 

And with thy mother mylde come to mine ayde; 

Come, both ; and with you bring triumphant Mart, 

In loves and gentle jollities arraid, 

After his murdrous spoylcs and bloudie rage allayd. 


1 8 The Faerie Queene 

IV. And with them eke, 0 Goddesse heavenly bright ! 
Mirrour of grace and Majestic divine, 

Great Ladie of the greatest Isle, whose light 

Like Phoebus lampe throughout the world doth shine. 

Shed thy faire beames into my feeble eyne. 

And raise my though tes, too humble and too vile. 

To thinke of t]jat true glorious type of thine, 

Tlic argument of mine afflicted stile: 

The which to h‘eare vouchsafe, 0 dearest dread, a-while I 

Book I — Canto I 



The Patrone c^f tr .e Hnlines'^ 

'roiile Itrrour d«^th defcato 
Hypocri<ic, him to ciitrappo, 

Doth tt> liis home entroatc 

I, A gentle Knight was pricking on the plainc, 

Vcladd in mightic armes and silver shicldc, 

W herein old dints of deepe woundes did remaine. 
The cruell markes of many* a bloody fieldc; 

Yet armes till that time did he never wield. 

His angry steede did chide his foniing hitt, 

As much disdayning to the ciirhe to yield: 

Full jolly knight he seemed, and faire did sitt, 

As one for knightly giusts and fierce encounters fitt. 

II. And on his brest a bloodie Crosse he bore, 

The deare remembrance of his dying Lord, 

For whose sweele sake that glorious badge he wore, 
And dead, as living, ever him ador’d: 

Upon his shield the like was also scor'd, 

For soveraine hope which in Iiis hclpe he had. 

Right faithfull true he was in deede and word. 

But of his cheere did seeme too solcmne sad ; 

Yet nothing did he dread, but ever was ydrad. 

III. Upon a great adventure he w'as bond, 

That greatest Gloriana to him gave, 

(That greatest Glorious Queene of Faery lond) 

To winne him worshippe, and her grace to have. 
Which of all earthly thinges he most did crave; 

And ever as he rode his hart did earne 
To prove his puissance in battell brave 
Upon his foe, and his new force to learnc. 

Upon his foe, a Dragon horrible and stearne. 

IV. A lovely Ladie rode him faire beside. 

Upon a lowly Asse more white then snow, 

Yet she much whiter; but the same did hide 



The Faerie Queene 

Under a Vcle, that wimpled was full low ; 

And over all a blacke stole shee did throw 
As one that inly moumd, so was she sad. 

And heavie sate upon her palfrey slow ; 

Seemed in heart some hidden care she had. 

And by her, in a line, a milkewhite lambe she lad. 

V. So pure and innocent, as that same lambe. 

She was in life and every vertuous lore; 

And by descent from Royall lynage came 
Of ancient Kinges and Queencs, that had of yore 
Their scepters stretcht from East to Westerne shore^ 
And all the world in their subjection held ; 

Till that infemall feend with foule uprore 
Forwasted all their land, and them expeld ; 

Whom to avenge she had this Knight from far compcld. 

VI. Behind her farre away a Dwarf e did lag, 

'J'hat lasie seemd, in being ever last. 

Or wearied with bearing of her bag 
Of needments at his backe. Thus as they past 
The day with cloudes was suddeine overcast. 

And angry Jove an hideous storme of raine 
Did poure into his Lemans lap so fast, 

That everie wight to shrowd it did constrain ; 

And this faire couple eke to shroud themselves were fain, 

VII. Enforst to seeke some covert nigh at hand, 

A shadie grove not farr away they spide. 

That promist ayde the tempest to withstand; 

Whose loftie trees, yclad with sommers pride, 

Did spred so broad, that heavens light did hide. 

Not perceable with power of any starr: 

And all within were pathes and alleies wide. 

With footing wome, and leading inward farr. 

Faire harbour that them seems, so in they entered ar. 

viii. And foorth they passe, with pleasure forward led. 

Joying to heare the birdes sweete harmony. 

Which, therein shrouded from the tempest dred, 

Seemd in their son^ to scorne the cruell sky. 

Much can they praise the trees so straight and hy. 

The say ling Pine; the Cedar proud and tall; 


Book I — Canto I 

The vine-propp Elme ; the Poplar never 'dry ; 

The builder Oake, sole king of forrests all ; 

The Aspine good for staves; the Cypresse funerall; 

IX. The Laurell, meed of mightie Conquerours 
And Poets sage; the Firre that wecpeth still: 

The Willow, wome of forlorne Paramours; 

The Eugh, obedient to the benders will ; 

The Birch for shaftes; the Sallow for the mill; 

The Mirrhe swecte-bleeding in the bitter wcAind; 

The warlike Beech ; the Ash for nothing ill ; 

The fruitfull Olive; and the Platane round; 

The carver Holme; the Maple sccldom inward sound. 

X. Led with delight, they thus beguile the way. 

Untill the blustring storme is overblowne ; 

When, weening to returne whence they did stray, 

They cannot finde that path, which first was shownc. 
But wander too and fro in waies unknowne. 

Furthest from end then, when they ncercst wcene, 

That makes them doubt their wits be not their ownc: 

So many pathes, so many turnings seenc. 

That which of tlicm to Uikc in diverse doubt they been. 

XI. At last resolving forward still to fare. 

Till that some end they finde, or in or out, 

That path they take tliat beaten scemd most bare. 

And like to lead the labyrinth about; 

Which when by tract they hunted had throughout. 

At length it brought them U) a hollowc cave 
Amid the thickest woods. The Champion stout 
Eftsoones dismounted from his courser brave, 

And to the Dwarfc a while his necdlcsse spere lie gave. 

XII. “ Be well aware,” quoth then that I^die milde, 

“ Least suddaine mischiefe ye too rash provoke: 

The danger hid, the place unknowne and wilde, 

Breedes dreadfull doubts. Oft fire is without smoke, 
And perill without show; therefore your stroke. 

Sir Knight, with-hold, till further tryall made.” 

“ Ah Ladie,” (sayd he) “ shame were to revoke 
The forw'ard footing for an hidden shade : 

Vertue gives her selfe light through darknesse for to wade,’* 


The Faerie Queene 

XIII. “ Yea but ” (quoth she) “ the perill of this place 
I better wot then you: though nowe too late 
To wish you hackc returne with foule disgrace, 

Yet wisedomc wames, whilest foot is in the gate. 

To stay the steppe, ere forced to retrate. 

This is the wand ring wood, this Errotirs den, 

A monster \iilc, whom God and man does hate: 
Therefore I read beware.” “ Fly, fly ! ” (quoth tiien 
The fearcfull Dwarfe) “ this is no place for living men.” 

XIV. But, full of fire and greedy hardiment. 

The youthfull Knight could not for aught be staide; 
But forth unto the darksom hole he went. 

And looked in: his glistring armor made 
A litle glooming light, much like a shade; 

By which he saw the ugly monster plaine, 

Halfe like a serpent horribly displaidc. 

But th’ other halfe did womans shape retainc, 

Most lothsom, filthie, foule, and full of vile disdainc. 

XV. And, as slie lay upon the durtie ground, 

Her huge long taile her den all overspred, 

^"ct was in knots and many boughtes upwound, 
Pointed with mortall sting. Of her there bred 
A thousand yong ones, which she dayly fed. 

Sucking upon her poisnous dugs, each one 
Of sundrie shapes, yet all ill-f*i\ ored : 

Soone as tliat uncouth light upon them slione, 

Into her mouth they crept, and suddain all were gone. 

XVI. Their dam upstart out of her den effraide, 

And rushed forth, hurling her hideous taile 
About her curseil head; whose folds displaid 
Were stretcht now forth at length without entraile. 

She lookt about, and seeing one in mayle, 

Armed to point, sought backe to turne againe; 

]M)r light she hated as the de.idly bale, 

Ay wont in desert darknes to remaine. 

Where plain none might her sec, nor she sec any plaine. 

>[Vii. Which when the valiant Fife perceiv’d, he Icpt 
As Lyon fierce upon the flying ]^ray, 

And with his treiichand blade her boldly kept 


Book I — Canto 1 

From turning backe, and forced her to sfay: 

Therewith enrag’d she loudly gan to bray, 

And turning fierce her speckled taile advaunst, 
Thrcatning her angrie sting, him to dismay; 

Who, nought aghast, his mighlie hand enhaunst: 

The stroke down from her head unto her shoulder glaunst 

xviir. Much daunted with that dint her sence N\as dazd; 

\'et kindling rage her selfe she gathered round, 

And all attonce her beastly bodie raizd 
With doubled forces high above the ground; 

Tho, rapping up her wrethed sterne around, 

Lept fierce upon his shield, and her huge traine 
All suddenly about his body uound. 

That hand or foot to stirr he strove in \aine. 

God hclpe the man so wrapt in I'rrours euillesse traine 1 

XIX. Ilis Lady, sad to see his sore constraint, 

Cridc out, “ Now, nriu. Sir knight, sliew uhat ye bee; 
Add faith unto your force, and l)e not faint; 

Strangle her, els she sure will strangle thee.” 

'fhat uhen he heard, in great perple.xitie. 

His gall did grate for griefe and high disdame; 

And, knitting all his forte, got one hand free. 

Wherewith he grypt her gorge with so great paine, 

That soone to lotise her wicked bands tlid her cfjnstrainc 

XX. Therewith she spewd out of her filthie maw' 

A floud of poyson horrible and blaeke, 

Full of great lumps of flesh and gobbets raw, 

Whic h stunc'k so \ildly, that it forsl him slac ke 
His grasping hold, and from her turne him bac kt‘. 

Her vomit full of bookes an<l pape rs was, 

W ilh loathly frogs and toades, wliK h eyes did laeke, 

And creeping sought way in the weedy gras- 
Her filthie [^arbreake all the place defiled has. 

XXI. As when (jld father Nilus gins to swell 

With timely pride above the Aeg\ ptiaii \ale 
His fattie waves doe fertile slime outwell, 

And overflow each plaint and lowly dale: 

But. when liis later s[>ring gins to a\ale. 

Huge heapes of mudd he leaves, wherein there brecfl 

24 The Faerie Queene 

Ten thouland kindes of creatures, partly male 
And partly femall, of hb fruitful seed; 

Such ugly monstrous shapes elswher may no man reed 

XXII. The same so sore annoyed has the knight, 

That, welnigh choked with the deadly stinke, 

His forces fajje, ne can no longer fight; 

Whose corage when the feend perceivd to shrinke. 

She poured forth out of her hellish sinke 
Her fraitfull cursed spawne of serpents small, 

Deformed monsters, fowle, and blacke as inke. 

Which swarming all about his legs did crall. 

And him encombred sore, but could not hurt at all. 

XXIII. As gentle shepheard in sweete eventide, 

When ruddy Phebus gins to welke in west. 

High on an hill, his flocke to vcwen wide, 

Markes which doe byte their hasty supper best ; 

A cloud of cumbrous gnattes doe him molest. 

All striving to infixe their feeble stinges, 

That from their noyance he no wdiere can rest; 

But with his clownish hands their tender wings 
He brusheth oft, and oft doth mar their murmurings. 

XXIV. Thus ill bestedd, and fearefull more of shame 
Then of the certeine perill he stood in, 

Halfe furious unto his foe he came, 

Resolvd in minde all suddenly to win, 

Or soone to lose, before he once w ould lin ; 

And stroke at her with more then manly force. 

That from her body, full of filthie sin, 

He raft her hatefull heade without remorse : 

A streame of cole-black blood forth gushed from her corse. 

XXV. Her scattered brood, soone as their Parent deare 
They saw so rudely falling to the ground, 

Groning full deadly, all with troublous feare 
Gathred themselves about her body round. 

Weening their wonted entrance to have found 
At her wide mouth ; but being there withstood, 

They flocked all about her bleeding wound, 

And sucked up their dying mothers bloud. 

Making her death their life, and eke her hurt their good. 

Book I — Canto I 25 

XXVI. That detestable sight him much amazSe, 

To see th* unkindly Impes, of heaven accurst, 

Devoure their dam; on whom while so he gazd, 
Having all satisfide their bloudy thurst, 

Their bellies swolne he saw with fulncsse burst, 

And bowels gushing forth: well worthy end 
Of such as drunke her life the whidh them nurst ! 

Now needeth him no lenger labour spend, 

His foes have slaine themselves, with whom he should 

XXVII. His Lady, seeing all that chaunst from farrc, 

Approcht in hast to greet his victorie ; 

And saide, “ Faire knight, borne under happie starre. 
Who see your vanquisht foes before you lye, 

Well worthie be you of that Armory, 

Wherein ye have great glory wonne this day, 

And proov’d your strength on a strong enimic. 

Your first adventure: many such 1 pray, 

And henceforth ever wish that like succeed it may ! 

XXVIII. Then mounted he upon his Steede againe, 

And with the Lady backward sought to wend. 

That path he kept which beaten was most plainc, 

Ne ever would to any byway bend, 

But still did follow one unto the end, 

The which at last out of the wood them brought. 

So forward on his way (wdth God to frend) 

He passed forth, and new adventure sought: 

Long way he travelled Ixjfore he heard of ought. 

XXIX. At length they chaunst to meet upon the way 
An aged Sire, in long blackc weedes yclad. 

His feete all bare, his beard all hoarie gray. 

And by his belt his booke he hanging had : 

Sober he seemde, and very sagely sad, 

And to the ground his eyes were lowly bent. 

Simple in shew, and voide of malice bad; 

And all the way he prayed as he went, 

And often knockt his breast, as one that did repent. 

XXX. He faire the knight saluted, louting low, 

Who faire him quited, as that courteous was; 


The Faerie Qucene 

And after asked him, if he did know 
Of straunge adventures, which abroad did pas. 

‘‘ Ah! my dear sonne,'’ (quoth he) “ how should, alas ! 
Silly old man, that lives in hidden cell. 

Bidding his beades all day for his trespas, 

Tydings of warre and worldly trouble tell? 

With hol}^ father sits not with such thinges to mell. 

XXXI. “ But if of daunger, which hereby doth dwell, 

And homebredd evil ye desire to heare, 

Of a straunge man I can you tidings tell. 

That wasteth all this countrie, farre and neare.’^ 

“ Of such,” (saide he,) “ I chiefly doe inquere, 

And shall thee well rewarde to shew the place. 

In which that wicked wight his dayes doth weare; 

For to all knighthood it is foule disgrace, 

That such a cursed creature lives so long a space.” 

XXXII. “ Far hence ” (quoth he) “ in wastfull wildcrnesse 
His dwelling is, by which no living wight 
May ever passe, but thorough great distresse.” 

“ Now,” (saide the Ladie,) “ drawcth toward night, 
And well I wote, that of your later fight 
Yg all forwearied be; for what so strong. 

But, wanting rest, will also want of might? 

The Sunne, that measures heaven all day long, 

At night doth baitc his steedes the Ocean waves emong. 

XXXIII. “ Then with the Sunne take, Sir, your timely rest, 

And with new day new worke at once begin : 
Untroubled night, they say, gives counsell best.” 

” Right well. Sir knight, ye have advised bin,” 

Quoth then that aged man; “ the way to win 
Is wisely to advise; now day is spent: 

Therefore with me ye may take up your In 

For this same night.” The knight was well content; 

So with that godly father to his home they went. 

XXXIV. A litle lowly Hermitage it was, 

Downe in a dale, hard by a forests side. 

Far from resort of people that did pas 
In traveill to and froe; a litle wyde 
There was an holy chappell edifyde, 

Book 1 — Canto 1 


Wherein the Hermite dewly wont to s&y 
His holy thinges each morne and eventyde: 

Thereby a christall streame did gently play, 

Which from a sacred fountaine welled forth alway. 

XXXV. Arrived there, the litle house they fill, 

Ne looke for entertainement where^none was; 

Rest is their feast, and all thinges at their will: 

The noblest mind the best contentment has. 

With faire discourse the evening so they pas; 

For that oldc man of pleasing wordes had store. 

And well could file his tongue as smooth as glas: 

He told of Saintes and Popes, and evermore 
He strowd an Ave-Mary after and before. 

XXXVI. The drouping night thus creepeth on them fast; 

And the sad humor loading their eyeliddes, 

As messenger of Morpheus, on them cast 

Sweet slombring deaw, the which to sleep them biddes. 

Unto their lodgings then his guestes he riddes: 

Where when all drownd in deadly slecpc he findes, 

He to his studie goes; and there amiddes 
Ilis magick bookes, and artes of sundrie kindes, 

He scckes out mighty charmes to trouble slcej)y minds. 

XXXVII. Then choosing out few words most horrible, 

(Let none them read) thereof did verses fiamc; 

With which, and other spelles like terrible. 

He bad awake blacke Plutoes gricsly Dame; 

And cursed heven ; and spake reprochful shame 
Of highest Clod, the Lord of life and light: 

A bold bad man, that dar'd to call by name 
Great Gorgon, prince of darkness and dead night; 

At which Cocytus quakes, and Styx is put to flight. 

xxxviii. And forth he cald out of deepe darknes dredd 
Legions of Sprights, the which, like litle Ayes 
Fluttring about his ever-damned hedd, 

Awaite whereto their service he applyes, 

To aide his friendes, or fray his enimies. 

Of those he chose out two, the falsest twoo, 

And fittest for to forge true-seeming lyes: 

The one of them he gave a message too. 

The other by him selfe staide, other worke to doo. 

28 The Faerie Queene 

XXXIX. He, miking speedy way through spersed ayre, 

And through the world of waters wide and deepe, 

To Morpheus house doth hastily repaire. 

Amid the bowels of the earth full steepe, 

And low, where dawning day doth never peepe, 

His dwelling is; there Tethys his wet bed 
Doth evei wash, and Cynthia still doth steepe 
In silver deaw his ever-drouping hed. 

Whiles sad Night over him her mantle black doth sprerl. 

XL. Whose double gates he findeth locked fast, 

The one faire fram’d of burnish t Yvory, 

The other all with silver overcast; 

And wakeful dogges before them farre doe lye. 
Watching to banish Care their enimy, 

Who oft is wont to trouble gentle Sleepe. 

By them the Sprite doth passe in quietly, 

And unto Morpheus comes, whom drowned deepe 
In drowsie fit he findes: of nothing he takes keepe. 

XLi. And more to lulle him in his slumber soft, 

A trickling streame from high rock tumbling downe. 
And ever-drizling raine upon the loft, 

Mixt with a murmuring winde, much like the sowne 
Of swarming Bees, did cast him in a swowne. 

No other noyse, nor peoples troublous cryes, 

As still are wont t’ annoy the walled towne, 

Might there be heard; but carelesse Quiet lyes 
Wrapt in eternall silence farre from enimyes. 

XLii. The Messenger approching to him spake; 

But his waste wordes retournd to him in vaine : 

So sound he slept, that nought mought him awake. 
Then rudely he him thrust, and pusht with paine. 
Whereat he gan to stretch; but he againe 
Shooke him so hard, that forced him to spcake. 

As one then in a dreame, whose dryer braine 
Is tost with troubled sights and fancies weake. 

He mumbled soft, but would not all his silence breake. 

XLiii. The Sprite then gan more boldly him to wake, 

And threatned unto him the dreaded name 
Of Hecate : whereat he gan to quake. 

Book I — Canto I 

And, lifting up his lompish head, with biame 
Halfe angrie asked him, for what he came. 

“ Hether ” (quoth he,) “ me Archimago sent, 

He that the stubborne Sprites can wisely tame. 

He bids thee to him send for his intent 
A fit false dreame, that can delude the sleepers sent. 

XLiv. The God obayde; and, calling forth straight way 
A diverse Dreame out of his prison darke, 

Delivered it to him, and downe did lay 
His heavie head, devoide of careful carke; 

Whose sences all were straight benumbd and Starke. 
He, backe returning by the Yvorie dore, 

Remounted up as light as chcarefull Larke; 

And on his litle winges the dreame he bore 
In hast unto his Lord, where he him left afore. 

XLV. Who all this while, with charmes and hidden artes, 
Had made a Lady of that other Spright, 

And fram’d of liquid ayre her tender partes. 

So lively and so like in all mens sight, 

That weaker sence it could have ravisht quight: 

The maker selfe, for all his wondrous witt, 

W’as nigh beguiled with so goodly sight. 

Her all in white he clad, and over it 

Cast a black stole, most like to seenic for Una fit. 

XLVi. Now, when that ydle dreame was to him brought, 
Unto that Elfin knight he bad him lly. 

Where he slept soundly void of evil thought, 

And with false shewes abuse his fantasy. 

In sort as he him schooled privily: 

And that new creature, borne without her dew. 

Full of the makers guylc, with usage sly 
He taught to imitate that Lady trew, 

Whose semblance she did came under feigned hew 

XLVii. Thus, well instructed, to their worke they haste; 
And, comming where the knight in slomber lay, 

The one upon his hardie head him plaste. 

And made him dreame of loves and luslfull play. 
That night his manly hart did melt away. 

Bathed in wanton blis and wicked joy. 

3© The Faerie Queene 

Then seeAed him his Lady by him lay. 

And to him playnd, how that false winged boy 

Her chaste hart had subdewd to leame Dame Pleasures toy. 

XLviiL And she her selfe, of beautie soveraigne Queene, 

Fay re Venus, seemde unto his bed to bring 
Her, whom he, waking, evermore did weene 
To bee the chastest flowre that aye did spring 
On earthly braunch, the daughter of a king, 

Now a*loose Leman to vile service bound: 

And eke the Graces seemed all to sing. 

Hymen 16 Hymen ! dauncin^r all around ; 

Whylst freshest Flora her with Yvie girlond crownd. 

XIJX. In this great passion of unwonted lust. 

Or wonted feare of doing ought amis. 

He starteth up, as seeming to mistrust 
Some secret ill, or hidden foe of his. 

Lo ! there before his face his Ladie is, 

Under blacke stole hyding her bay ted hooke ; 

And as halfe blushing offred him to kis. 

With gentle blandishment and lovely looke, 

Most like that virgin true which for her knight him took. 

L. All cleane dismayd to see so uncouth sight. 

And half enraged at her shameless guise. 

He thought have slaine her in his fierce despight; 

But hastie heat tempring with sufferance wise. 

He stayde his hand; and gan himselfe advise 
To prove his sense, and tempt her faigned truth. 
Wringing her hands, in wemens pitteous wise, 

Tho can she weepe, to stirre up gentle ruth 
Both for her noble blood, and for her tender youth. 

LI. And sayd, “ Ah Sir, my liege Lord, and my love, 

Shall I accuse the hidden cruell fate. 

And mightie causes wrought in heaven above. 

Or the blind God that doth me thus amale. 

For hoped love to winne me certaine hate? 

Yet thus perforce he bids me do, or die. 

Die is my dew ; yet rew my wretched state, 

You, whom my hard avenging destinie 

Hath made judge of my life or death indifferently. 

3 * 

Book I — Canto I 

tn. “ Your owne deare sake forst me at firs^ to leave 
My fathers kingdom ” — ^There she stopt with tearcs; 

Her swollen hart her speech seemd to bereave, 

And then againe begonne; “ My weaker yeares, 

Captiv^d to fortune and frayle worldly feares, 

Fly to your fayth for succour and sure ayde; 

Let me not die in languor and long t^ares/' 

“ Why, Dame,'’ (quoth he,) what hath ye thus dismayd ? 
What frayes ye, that were wont to comfort me affrayd? ” 

Liii. Love of your selfe,” she saide, ** and deare constraint, 
Lets me not sleepe, but waste the wearie night 
In secret anguish and unpittied plaint, 

Whiles you in carelesse sleepe arc drowned quight.” 

Her doubtfull words made that redoubted knight 
Suspect her truth: yet since no’ untruth he knew. 

Her fawning love with foule disdainefull spight 
He would not shend ; but said, “ Deare dame, I rew, 
That for my sake unknowne such griefe unto you grew, 

Liv. “ Assure your selfe, it fell not all to ground; 

For all so deare as life is to my hart, 

I deeme your love, and hold me to you bound : 

Ne let vaine feares procure your needlesse smart, 

Where cause is none; but to your rest depart.” 

Not all content, yet seemd she to appease 
Her moumefull plaintes, beguiled of her art. 

And fed with words that could not chose but please: 

So, slyding softly forth, she tumd as to her ease. 

Lv. Long after lay he musing at her mood, 

Much griev’d to thinke that gentle Dame so light, 

For whose defence he was to shed his blood. 

At last, dull wearines of former fight 
Having yrockt asleepe his irkesome spright, 

That troublous dreame gan freshly tosse his braine 
With bowres, and beds, and ladies deare delight: 

But, when he saw his labour all was vaine. 

With that misformed spright he backe retumd againe. 


The Faerie Queene 


The giiilefull great Enchaunter parts 
The Redcrosse Knight from Truth: 

Into whose stead faire falshood steps, 

And workes him woefull ruth. 

r. By this the Northerne wagoner had set 
His sevenfold teme behind the stedfast starre 
That was in Ocean waves yet never wet. 

But firme is fixt, and sendcth light from farrc 
To al that in the wide deepe wandring arre ; 

And chearefull Chaunticlere with his note shrill 
Had warned once, that Phoebus fiery carre 
In hast was climl)ing up the Easterne hill, 

Full envious that night so long his roome did fill: 

II When those accursed messengers of hell. 

That feigning dreame, and that faire-forged Spright, 
Gime to their wicked maister, and gan tel 
Their bootelesse paines, and ill succeeding night: 
Who, all in rage to see his skilfull might 
Deluded so, gan threaten hellish paine. 

And sad Proserpines wrath, them to affright: 

But, when he saw his threatning was but vainc, 

He cast about, and searcht his baleful bokes againe. 

III. Eftsoones he tooke that miscreated faire. 

And that false other Spright, on whom he spred 
A seeming body of the subtile aire. 

Like a young Squire, in loves and liisty-hcd 
His w'anton daies that ever loosely led, 

Without regard of armes and dreaded fight : 

Those twoo he tooke, and in a secrete bed, 

Covered with darkenes and misdeeming night, 

Them both together laid to joy in vaine delight. 

• IV. Forthwith he runnes with feigned faithfull hast 
Unto his guest, who, after troublous sights 
And dreames, gan now to take more sound repast; 


Book I — Canto II 

Whom suddenly he wakes with fearful flights, 

As one aghast with feends or damned spnghts. 

And to him cals; “ Rise, rise! unhappy Swaine, 

That here wex old in sleepe, whiles wicked wights 
Have knit themselves in Venus shameful chaine : 

Come, see where your false I^idy doth her honor sUiine/’ 

V. All in amaze he suddenly up start 

With sword in hand, and with the old man went; 

Who soone him brought into a secret part, • 

Where that false couple were full closely ment 
In wanton lust and lend embracement: 

Which when he saw, he burnt with gealous fire; 

The eie of reason was with rage y blent, 

And would have slaine them in his furious ire, 

But hardly was restreined of that aged sire. 

VI. Retouming to his bed in torment great, 

And bitter anguish of his guilty sight. 

He could not rest; but did his stout heart eat, 

And wast his inward gall with deepc despight, 

Yrkesome of life, and too long lingring night. 

At last faire Hesperus in highest skie 

Had spent his lampe, and brought forth dawning light; 

Then up he rose, and clad him hastily: 

The dwarfe him brought his steed; so both away do f]\ . 

VII. Now when the rosy fingred Morning faire. 

Weary of aged Tithones saffron bed. 

Had spred her purple robe through dcawy aire. 

And the high hils Titan discovered. 

The royall virgin shooke off drousy-hed ; 

And, rising forth out of her baser bowre, 

I^okt for her knight, who far away was fled, 

And for her dwarfe, that wont to wait each howre: 

Then gan she wail and weepe to sec that woeful stowre. 

VIII. And after him she rode, with so much speede 

As her slowe beast could make ; but all in vainc. 

For him so far had borne his light-foot steede, 

Pricked with wrath and fiery fierce disdaine. 

That him to follow was but fruitlesse paine: 

Yet she her weary limbes would never rest; 


The Faerie Queene 

But ever^ hil and dale, each wood and plaine. 

Did search, sore grieved in her gentle brest. 

He so ungently left her, whome she loved best. 

IX. But subtill Archimago, when his guests 
He saw divided into double parts. 

And Una wa^dring in woods and forrests, 

Th’ end of his drift, he praisd his divelish arts, 

That had such might over true meaning harts: 

Yet rests not so, but other meanes doth make. 

How he may worke unto her further smarts; 

For her he hated as the hissing snake. 

And in her many troubles did most pleasure take. 

X. He then devisde himselfe how to disguise; 

For by his mighty science he could take 

As many formes and shapes in seeming wise, 

As ever Proteus to himselfe could make ; 

Sometime a fowle, sometime a fish in lake, 

Now like a foxe, now like a dragon fell; 

That of himselfe he ofte for feare would quake, 

And oft would die away. O ! who can tell 

The hidden powre of herbes, and might of Magick spel ? 

XI. But now seemde best the person to put on 
Of that good knight, his late beguiled guest: 

In mighty armes he was yclad anon, 

And silver shield ; upon his coward brest 
A bloody crosse, and on his craven crest 
A bounch of heares discolourd diversly. 

Full jolly knight he seemde, and wel addrest; 

And when he sate upon his courser free. 

Saint George himselfe ye would have deemed him to be. 

xii. But he, the knight whose semblaunt he did bcare. 

The true Saint George, was wandred far away, 

Still flying from his thoughts and gealous feare: 

Will was his guide, and griefe led him astray. 

At last him chaunst to meete upon the way 
A faithlesse Sarazin, all armde to point. 

In whose great shield was writ with letters gay 
Sans fay ; full large of limbe and every joint 
He was, and cared not for God or man a point. 


Book I — Canto 11 

XIII. Hce had a faire companion of his way, 

A goodly Lady clad in scarlot red, 

Purfled with gold and pearle of rich assay ; 

And like a Persian mitre on her hed 

Shee wore, with crowns and owches garnished. 

The which her lavish lovers to her gave. 

Her wanton palfrey all was oversprec> 

With tinsell trappings, woven like a wave. 

Whose bridle rung with golden bels and bosses brave. 

XIV. With faire disport, and courting dalliauncc, 

She intertainde her lover all the way ; 

But, when she saw the knight his speare advaunce, 
She soone left off her mirth and wanton play, 

And bad her knight addresse him to the fray, 

His foe was nigh at hand. He, prickte with pride 
And hope to winne his Ladies heartc that day, 

Forth spurred fast: adowne his coursers side 

The red bloud trickling staind the way, as he did ride. 

XV. The knight of the Rcdcrosse, when him he spide 
Spurring so hote with rage dispiteous, 

Gan fairely couch his speare, and towards ride. 

Soone meete they both, both fell and furious. 

That, daunted with theyr forces hideous, 

Their steeds doc stagger, and amazed stand; 

And eke themselves, too rudely rigorous, 

Astonied with the stroke of their ownc hand, 

Doe backe rebutte, and cch to other ycaldeth land. 

XVI. As when two rams, stird with ambitious pride, 

Fight for the rule of the rich fleeced flocke, 

Their horned fronts so fierce on either side 
Doe meete, that, with the terror of the shockc, 
Astonied, both stand senceles-^e as a blocke, 

Forgetfull of the hanging victory : 

So stood these twaine, unmoved as a rocke. 

Both staring fierce, and holding idcly 
The broken reliques of their former cruelty. 

XVII. The Sarazin, sore daunted with the buffe. 

Snatched his sword, and fiercely to him flies ; 

Who w'ell it wards, and quyteth cuff with cuff; 


The Faerie Queene 

Each othArs equall puissaunce envies, 

And through their iron sides with cruell spies 
Does seeke to perce ; repining courage yields 
No foote to foe: the flashing fier flies, 

As from a forge, out of their burning shields; 

And streams of purple bloud new die the verdant fields. 

XVIII. Curse on that Cross,’’ (quoth then the Sarazin,) 

** That keepes thy body from the bitter fitt! 

Dead Ibng ygoe, I wote, thou haddest bin, 

Had not that charme from thee forwarned itt: 

But yet I warne thee now assured sitt, 

And hide thy head.” Therewith upon his crest 
With rigor so outrageous he smitt. 

That a large share it hewd out of the rest, 

And glauncing downe his shield from blame him fairly blest. 

XIX. Who, thereat wondrous wroth, the sleeping spark 
Of native vertue gan eftsoones revive ; 

And at his haughty helmet making mark. 

So hugely stroke, that it the steele did rive. 

And cleft his head. He, tumbling downe alive. 

With bloudy mouth his mother earth did kis, 

Greeting his grave : his grudging ghost did strive 
With the fraile flesh; at last it flitted is. 

Whither the soules doe fly of men that live amis. 

XX. The Lady, when she saw her champion fall 
Like the old mines of a broken towre, 

Staid not to waile his woefull funerall. 

But from him fled away with all her powre; 

Who after her as hastily gan scowre. 

Bidding the dwarfe with him to bring away 
The Sarazins shield, signe of the conqueroure. 

Her soone he overtooke, and bad to stay ; 

For present cause was none of dread her to dismay. 

XXI. Shee turning backe, with ruefull countenauncc, 

Cride, “ Mercy, mercy. Sir, vouchsafe to show 
On silly Dame, subject to hard mischaunce. 

And to your mighty wil ! ” Her humblesse low. 

In so ritch w^eedes, and seeming glorious show. 

Did much emmove his stout heroicke heart ; 


Book I — Canto II 

And said, “ Deare dame, your sudden o\l 5 rthrow 
Much rueth me; but now put feare apart. 

And tel both who ye be, and who that tooke your part.’* 

XXII. Melting in teares, then gan shce thus lament, 

The wretched woman, whom unhappy howre 
Hath now made thrall to your commandemcnt. 

Before that angry heavens libt to lowre. 

And fortune false betraide me to thy powre, 

Was(0! what now availeth that I was?) • 

Borne the sole daughter of an Empcrour, 

He that the wide West under his rule has, 

And high hath set his throne where I'iberis doth pas. 

XXIII. “ He, in the first flowre of my freshest age, 

Betrothed me unto the onley haire 

Of a most mighty king, most rich and sage: 

Was never Prince so faithfull and so faire, 

Was never Prince so meeke and debonairc ; 

But ere my hoped day of spousall shone, 

My dearest Lord fell from high honors staire 
Into the hands of hys accursed fone. 

And cruelly was slaine ; that shall I ever monc. 

XXIV. “ His blessed body, spoild of lively breath, 

Was afterward, I know not how, convaid. 

And fro me hid : of whose most innocent death 
When tidings came to mee, unhappy maid, 

O, how great sorrow my sad soule assaid I 
Then forth I went his woefull corse to find, 

And many y/jares throughout the world I straid, 

A virgin widow, whose deepKJ wounded mind 
With love long time did languish, as the striken hind. 

XXV. “ At last it chaunced this proud Sarazin 

To meete me wandring; who perforce me led 
With him away, but yet could never win 
The Fort, that Ladies hold in soveraigne dread. 

There lies he now with foule dishonour dead. 

Who, w'hiles he livde, was called proud Sans foy. 

The eldest of three brethren ; all three bred 
Of one bad sire, whose youngest is Sans joy ; 

And twixt them both was bom the bloudy bold Sans loy. 

38 The Faerie Queene 

XXVI. “ In this s-id plight, friendlesse, unfortunate, 

Now miserable I, Fidessa, dwell. 

Craving of you, in pi tty of my state, 

To doe none ill, if please ye not doe well.” 

He in great passion al this while did dwell. 

More busying his quicke eies her face to view, 

Then his dull eares to heare what shee did tell; 

And said, “ faire lady, hart of flint would rew 
The undeserved woes and sorrowes, which ye shew. 

XXVII. “ Henceforth in safe assuraunce may ye rest, 

Having both found a new friend you to aid. 

And lost an old foe that did you molest; 

Better new friend then an old foe is said.” 

With chaunge of chear the seeming simple maid 
Let fal her eien, as shamefast, to the earth, 

And yeelding soft, in that she nought gainsaid. 

So forth they rode, he feining secmely merth, 

And shee coy lookes : so dainty, they say, maketh derth. 

XXVIII. Long time they thus together traveiled; 

Til, weary of their way, they came at last 
Where grew two goodly trees, that faire did spred 
Their armes abroad, with gray mosse overcast; 

And their greene leaves, trembling with every blast, 
Made a calme shadowe far in compasse round: 

The fearefull shepheard, often there aghast, 

Under them never sat, ne wont there sound 

His mery oaten pipe, but shund th’ unlucky ground. 

XXIX. But this good knight, soone as he them can spie. 

For the coolc shade him thither hastly got: 

For golden Phoebus, now ymounted hie, 

From fiery wheeles of his faire chariot 
Hurled his beame so scorching cruell hot. 

That living creature mote it not abide; 

And his new Lady it endured not. 

There they alight, in hope themselves to hide 
P'rom the fierce heat, and rest their weary limbs a tide. 

XXX. Faire seemely pleasaiince each to other makes. 

With goodly purposes, there as they sit; 

And in his falsed fancy he her takes 


Book I — Canto II 

To be the fairest wight that lived yit^ 

Which to expresse he bends his gentle wit: 

And, thinking of those braunches greene to frame 
A girlond for her dainty forehead fit, 

He pluckt a bough; out of whose rifte there rame 
Smal drops of gory bloud, that trickled down the same 

XXXI. Therewith a piteous yelling voice was heard, 

Crying, “ O! spare with guilty hands to teare 
My tender sides in this rough rynd emhard ; 

But fly, ah ! fly far hence away, for feare 
Least to you hap that happened to me heare. 

And to this wretched Lady, my dcare love ; 

O, too deare love, love bought with death too dearel ” 
Astond he stood, and up his heare did hove ; 

And with that suddein horror could no member move. 

XXXII. At last whenas the dreadfull passion 

Was overpast, and manhood well awake, 

Yet musing at the straunge occasion, 

And doubting much his sence, he thus bespake: 

“ What voice of damned Ghost from Limbo lake, 

Or guilefull spright wandring in empty aire, 

Both which fraile men doe oftentimes mistake. 

Sends to my doubtful earcs these speaches rare, 

And ruefull plaints, me bidding guiltlesse blood to 
spare? " 

XXXIII. Then, groning deep; “ Nor damned CJhost,” (quoth he,) 
‘‘ Nor guileful sprite to thee these words doth speakc; 
But once a man, Fradubio, iiiav a tree; 

Wretched man, wretched tree! wliose nature wcake 
A cruell witch, her cursed will to wreake, 

Hath thus transformd, and plast in open plaines. 
Where Boreas doth blow full bitter bleake. 

And scorching Sunne does dry my secret vaines; 

For though a tree I seme, yet cold and heat me paines.** 

XXXIV. Say on, Fradubio, then, or man or tree.*' 

Quoth then the Knight; “ by whose mischievous arts 
Art thou misshaped thus, as now I see? 

He oft finds med’cinc who his griefe imparts, 

But double griefs afflict concealing harts, 


The Faerie Queene 

As rag^g flames who striveth to suppresse.’’ 

“ The author then,” (said he) “ of all my smarts, 

Is one Duessa, a false sorceresse. 

That many errant knights hathbroghtto wretchednesse. 

XXXV. “ In prime of youthly yeares, when corage hott 
The fire of love, and joy of chevalree, 

First kindled in my brcst, it was my lott 
To love this gentle Lady, whome ye see 
Now not a Lady, but a seeming tree; 

With whome, as once I rode accompany de. 

Me chaunced of a knight encountred bee, 

That had a like faire Lady by his syde; 

Lyke a faire Lady, but did fowle Duessa hyde. 

XXXVI. ** Whose forged beauty he did take in hand 
All other Dames to have exceeded far re : 

I in defence of mine did likewise stand. 

Mine, that did then shine as the Morning starre. 

So both to batteill fierce arraunged arre, 

In which his harder fortune was to fall 
Under my speare: such is the dye of warrc. 

His Lady, left as a prise martiall, 

Did yield her comely person to be at my call, 

XXXVII. “ So doubly lov’d of ladies, unlike faire, 

Th’ one seeming such, the other such indeedc. 

One day in doubt I cast for to compare 
Whether in beauties glorie did exceede : 

A Rosy girlond was the victors meede. 

Both seemde to win, and both seemed won to bee. 

So hard the discord was to be agreede. 

Friclissa was as faire as faire mote bee, 

And ever false Duessa seemde as faire as shee. 

XXXVIII. “ The wicked witch, now seeing all this while 
The doubtfull ballaunce equally to sway. 

What not by right she cast to win by guile ; 

And by her hellish science raisd streight way 
A foggy mist that overcast the day. 

And a dull blast, that breathing on her face 
Dimmed her former beauties shining ray, 

* And with foule ugly forme did her disgrace : 

Then was she fayre alone, when none was faire in place. 


Book I — Canto II 

xxxix. “ Then cride she out, ‘ Fye, fye ! defo^ed wight, 
Whose borrowed beau tie now^ appeareth plaine 
To have before bewitched all mens sight: 

O ! leave her soone, or let her soone be slaine/ 

Her loathly visage viewing with disdaine, 

Eftsoones I thought her such as she me told, 

And would have kild her; but witB faigncd paine 
The false witch did my wrathful hand withhold: 

So left her, where she now is turnd to trc^n mould. 

XL. Thensforth I tooke Duessa for my Dame, 

And in the witch unweeting joyd long time, 

Ne ever wist but that she was the same; 

Till on a day (that day is everie Prime, 

When Witches wont do penance for their crime,) 

I chaunst to see her in her proper hew% 

Bathing her selfe in origane aiul thyme: 

A filthy foule old w'oman I did vew, 

That ever to have touch t her 1 did deadly rcw. 

XLi. “ Her neather partes misshapen, monstruous. 

Were hidd in water, that I could not see; 

But they did seeme more foule and hideous, 

Then womans shape man would hcleeve to bee, 
Thensforth from her most beastly companie 
I gan refraine, in minde to slipp away, 

Soone as appeard safe opporlunilie: 

For danger great, if not assured decay, 

I saw before mine eyes, if I were knowne to stray. 

XLir. The divclish hag by chaunges of my cheare 

Perceiv’d my thought; and, drownd in sleepie night, 
With wicked herbes and oyntments did besmeare 
My body all, through charmes and magicke might. 
That all my senses were bereaved quight: 

Then brought she me into this desert waste, 

And by my wretched lovers side me pight; 

Where now, enclosed in wooden waLs full faste, 
Banisht from living wights, our wearic daies we waste.*' 

XLiii. But how long time," said then the Elfin knight, 

“ Are you in this misformed hous to dwell? " 

“ We may not chaunge," (quoth he,) “ this evill plight. 


The Faerie Queene 

Till we*be bathed in a living well : 

That is the terme prescribed by the spell.” 

“ O! how/’ sayd he, “ mote I that well out find, 

That may restore you to your wonted well? ” 

“ Time and sulTised fates to former kynd 
Shall us restore ; none else from hence may us unbynd." 

XLiv. 'I'he false Diicssa, now Fidessa hi /it, 

l^c^^rd how in vaine P'radubio did lament, 

And knew well all was true. But the good knight, 
Full of sad feare and ghastly dreriment. 

When all this speech the living tree had spent, 

The bleeding bough did thrust into the ground. 

That from the blood he might be innocent, 

And with fresh clay did close the wooden wound: 
'riicn, turning to his Lady, dead with feare her fownd, 

XLV. Her seeming dead he fownd with feigned feare. 

As all imwecting of that well she knew; 

And paynd himselfe with busie care to reare 
Her out of carelesse swowne. Her eyelids blew. 

And dimmed sight, with pale and deadly hew. 

At last she up gan lift: with trembling cheare 
Her up he tooke, (too simple and too trew) 

And oft her kist. At length, all passed feare. 

He set her on her steede, and forward forth did beare. 

Book I — Canto III 



For«;akf n crke*; her 

And in.ikc'^ the I \<»n iiisldt*, 

Marres lilind Dc-v t»ti< ‘H's inai t. ainl fals 
In hand nf kMchour vyldt‘ 

I. Nought is tluTc under heav'ns wide holltnvnc^^o. 

That moves more dearc eoinpassion of mind. 

Then beaiitie hrou^lit t'linworlhie \vret('lu'dnc‘-se 
Through envies snares, or fortunes frtMkes unkind. 

I, whether lately tlirough her hnghlnes lilynd, 

Or through alleagcanee, and fast fealty 
W'hich 1 do owe unto all womank\ml, 

Fecle my hart perst with so great agonv. 

When such I see, that all for pitty 1 etnild dy, 

II. And now' it is empa.ssioned so det pe, 

For fairest Unaes .sake, of w'hom I sing, 

That mv frayle e;es these lines with teau's do sleej) 0 , 
To thinke how' she through gu\lnful handeling, 
Though true as touch, though tl.uighler of a king, 
Though faire as ever living wight was fa\ re, 

Thougli nor in w'ord nor deede ill meriting, 

Is from her knight divt)r(’(‘d in despav re, 

And her dew' loAes deryx'M to that \’il(‘ witches shayre. 

III. Vet she, most hiithfull hadie, all this while 
Inirsaken, wofnll, solitanc rnaxd, 

h'ar from all fjeojiles j^react*, as in exile. 

In w ildernesse and wastfull rleserts strayd. 

To seeke her krught: who, sul»lil\ l)(‘tra\d 
Through that latr \ ision whichth ICiK'haunter w roiight, 
Had her ahandond. She, of nought afTr.i\-d, 

Through worlds and wastnes wul< him dailv sriuglit; 
Vet w'l^hefl tvdinges nr>ne oi him unto her brought. 

IV. One day, nigh wearie of the yrke^oim: way, 
k'rom her unhastie bea^t she did alight; 

And on the grasse her dainty limbs d:d lay 


The Faerie Queene 

In secfrete shadow, far from all mens sight: 

From her fay re head her fillet she undight. 

And layd her stole aside. Her angels face, 

As the great eye of heaven, shyned bright. 

And made a sunshine in the shady place ; 

Did ever mortall eye behold such heavenly grace. 

V. It fortuned, out of the thickest wood 
A ramping Lyon rushed suddeinly, 

Hifhting full greedy after salvage blood. 

Soone as the royall virgin he did spy, 

With gaping mouth at her ran greedily. 

To have attonce devourd her tender corse ; 

But to the pray when as he drew more ny. 

His bloody rage aswaged with remorse, 

And, with the sight amazd, forgat his furious forse. 

VI. In stead thereof he kist her wearie feet. 

And lickt her lilly hands with fawning tong, 

As he her wronged innocence did weet. 

O, how can beautie maister the most strong, 

And simple truth subdue avenging wrong ! 

Whose yielded pryde and proud submission, 

Still dreading death, when she had marked long. 
Her hart gan melt in great compassion; 

And drizling teares did shed for pure affection. 

VII. “ The Lyon, Lord of everie beast in field, 

Quoth she, “ his princely puissance doth abate, 

And mightie proud to humble weake does yield, 
Forgetfull of the hungry rage, which late 
Him prickt, in pittie of my sad estate: 

But he, my Lyon, and my noble I^ord, 

flow does he find in cruel! hart to hale 

Her, that him lov’d, and ever most adord 

As the God of my life? why hath he me abhord? ” 

VIII. Redounding teares did choke th’ end of her plaint. 
Which softly ecchoed from the neighbour wood; 
And, sad to see her sorrowfull constraint. 

The kingly beast upon her gazing stood: 

W’ith pittie calmd downe fell his angry mood. 

At last, in close hart shutting up her payne. 


Book I — Canto III 

Arose the virgin, borne of heavenly brfod. 

And to her snowy Palfrey got agayne. 

To seeke her strayed Champion if she might attayne. 

ix. The Lyon would not leave her desolate, 

But with her went along, as a strong gard 
Of her chast person, and a faythfulVmate 
Of her sad troubles and misfortunes hard: 

Still, when she slept, he kept both watch and ward ; 
And, when she wakt, he wayted diligent. 

With humble service to her will prepurd : 

From her fay re eyes he tooke commandement. 

And ever by her lookes conceived her intent. 

X. Long she thus travciled through deserts wyde, 

By which she thought her wandring knight shold pas, 
Yet never shew of living wight espyde ; 

Till that at length she found the troden gras. 

In which the tract of peoples footing was, 

Under the steepe foot of a mountaine hore: 

The same she followcs, till at last she has 
A damzcl spyde, slow footing her !>elore, 

That on her shoulders sad a pot of water bore. 

XI. To whom approching she to her gan call, 

To weet if dwelling place were nigh at hand; 

But the rude wench her answerd nought at all; 

She could not heare, nor speake, nor understand; 

Till, seeing by her side the Lyon stand. 

With suddeinc feare her pitcher downe she threw. 
And fled away: for never in tliat land 
Face of fayre Lady she before did vew, 

And that dredd Lyons looke her cast in deadly hew. 

XII. Full fast she fled, ne ever lookt bchynd. 

As if her life upon the wager lay; 

And home she came, whereas her mother blynd 
Sate in eternall night: nought could she say; 

But, suddeine catching hold, did her dismay 
With quaking hands, and other signes of feare; 

Who, full of ghastly fright and cold affray, 

Gan shut the dore. By this arrived there 
Dame Una, weary Dame, and entrance did requerc • 

C ^ 

46 The Faerie Queene 

XIII. Which when none yielded, her unruly Page 
With his rude clawes the wicket open rent, 

And let her in; where, of his cruell rage 
Nigh dead with feare, and faint astonishment, 

Shee found them both in darksome corner pent; 
Where that old woman day and night did pray 
Upon hei beads, devoutly penitent: 

Nine hundred Pater nosters every day. 

And thrise nine hundred Aves she was wont to sa^'. 

XIV. And to augment her painefull penaunce more, 

Thrise every weeke in ashes shee did sitt, 

And next her wrinkled skin rough sackecloth wore. 
And thrise three times did fast from any bitt : 

But now, for feare her beads she did forgett: 

Whose ncedlesse dread for to remove away, 

Faire Una framed words and count’naiince fitt; 

Which hardly doen, at length she gan them pray, 
Thai in their cotage small that night she rest her may. 

XV. The day is spent; and commeth drowsie night. 

When every creature shrowded is in slcepe. 

Sad Una downe her laies in weary plight. 

And at her feete the Lyon watch doth keepe: 

In stead of rest she does lament and weepc. 

For the late losse of her deare loved knight, 

And sighes, and grones, and evermore does steepc 
Her tender brcst in bitter teares all night ; 

All night she thinks too long, and often lookes for light 

XVI. Now when Aldeboran was mounted hyc 
Above the shinie Cassiopcias chaire, 

And all in deadly sleepe did drowned lye 
One knocked at the dore, and in would fare : 

He knocked fast, and often curst, and sware, 

That ready entraunce was not at his call; 

For on his liackc a heavy load he bare 

Of nightly stelths, and pillage severall. 

Which he had got abroad by purchas criminall. 

XVII. He was, to wcete, a stout and sturdy thicfe. 

Wont to robbe churches of their ornaments, 

And poore mens boxes of their due reliefe. 


Book I — Canto III 

Which given was to them for good intehts: 

The holy Saints of their rich vestiments 
He did disrobe, when all men carclesse slept. 

And spoild the Priests of their habiliments; 

Whiles none the holy things in safety kept, 

Then he by conning sleights in at the window crept. 

XVIII. And all that he by right or wrong could find. 

Unto this house he brought, and did bestojv 
Upon the daughter of this woman blind, 

AljKissa, daughter of Corceca slow, 

With whom he whoredome usd, that few did know, 
And fed her fatt with feast of offerings, 

And plenty, which in all the land di(l grow': 

Ne spared he to give her gold and rings: 

And now he to her brought part of his stolen things. 

XIX. Thus, long the dorc with rage aiifl threats he bett, 
Yet of those fearfull women none durst rize, 

The Lyon frayed them, him in to lett. 

He would no longer stay him to advi/e, 

But open breakes the (lore in furious wize, 

And entring is, when that disdainfull beast, 
Encountring fierce, him suddein doth siirjirizc; 

And, seizing cruell clawes on trembling brest. 

Under his Lordly foot him proudly hath supprest. 

XX. Him booteth not resist, nor succour call. 

His bleeding hart is in the vengers hand ; 

Who streight him rent in thousand pccces small, 

And quite dismembred hath : the thirsty land 
Dronke up his life; his corse left on the strand. 

His fearefull freends weare out the wofull night, 

Ne dare to weepe, nor seeme to understand 
The heavie hap which on them is alight; 

Affraid least to themselves the like mishappen might. 

XXI. Now when broad day the world discovered has. 

Up Una rose, up rose the lyon eke; 

And on their former journey forward pas, 

In waies unknowne, her wandring knight to sceke. 
With paines far passing that long wandring Greeke, 
That for his love refused deitye. 


The Faerie Queene 

Such wA-e the labours of this Lady meeke, 

Still seeking him, that from her still did flye; 

Then furthest from her hope, when most she weened nye. 

XXII. Soone as she parted thence, the fearfull twayne. 

That blind old woman, and her daughter dear. 

Came fortlf; and, finding Kirkrapine there slayne. 

For anguish great they gan to rend their heare, 
AndJ^eat their brests, and naked flesh to teare; 

And when they both had wept and way Id their fill, 
Then forth they ran, like two amazed deare, 

Halfe mad through malice and revenging will. 

To follow her that was the causer of their ill. 

XXIII. Whome overtaking, they gan loudly bray. 

With hollow houling, and lamenting cry; 

Shamefully at her rayling all the way, 

And her accusing of dishonesty, 

That was the flowre of faith and chastity : 

And still, amidst her rayling, she did pray 
That plagues, and mischiefes, and long misery, 

Might fall on her, and follow all the way, 

And that in endlesse error she might ever stray. 

XXIV. But, when she saw her prayers nought prevaile, 

Shee backe retourned with some labour lost; 

And in the way, as shee did weepe and waile, 

A knight her mett in mighty armes embost. 

Yet knight was not for all his bragging host; 

But subtill Archimag, that Una sought 
By traynes into new troubles to have toste: 

Of that old woman tidings he besought, 

If that of such a Lady shee could tellen ought. 

XXV. Therewith she gan her passion to renew. 

And cry, and curse, and raile, and rend her hearc. 
Saying, that harlott she too lately knew, 

That causd her shed so many a bitter teare; 

And so forth told the story of her feare. 

Much seemed he to mone her haplesse chaunce, 

And after for that Lady did inquere ; 

Which being taught, he forward gan advaunce 

His fair enchaunted steed, and eke his charmed launce. 


Book I — Canto III 

XXVI. Ere long he came where Una traveild dow, 

And that wilde champion way ting her L>esyde ; 

Whome seeing such, for dread hec durst not show 
Him selfe too nigh at hand, but turned w’de 
Unto an hil ; from whence when she him spyde, 

By his like seeming shield her knight by name 
She weend it was, and towards himjgan ride: 
Approaching nigh she wist it was the same; 

And with faire fearefull humblesse towards him slice 
came : 

xxvn. And weeping said, “ Ah, my long lacked Lord, 

Where have ye bene thus long out of my sight? 

Much feared I to have bene quite abhord, 

Or ought have done, that ye displcascn might, 

That should as death unto my deare heart light: 

For since mine eie your joyous sight did mis, 

My chearefull day is turnd to chearclesse night, 

And eke my night of death the shadow is; 

But welcome now^, my light, and shining lampe of blis ! ” 

xxviii. He thereto meeting said, ** My dearest Dame, 

Far be it from your thought, Jind fro my wil, 

To thinke that knighthood I so mucli should shame, 
As you to leave that have me loved stil, 

And chose in Faery court, of meere goodwil, 

Where noblest knights were to be found on earth. 

The earth shall sooner leave her kindly skil 
To bring forth fruit, and make eternal derth. 

Then I leave you, my liefe, yborn of hevenly bertlu 

XXIX. “ And sooth to say, why I lefte you so long. 

Was for to seeke adventure in straunge place ; 

Where, Arch imago said, a felon strong 
To many knights did daily worke disgrace; 

But knight he now shall never more deface: 

Good cause of mine excuse, that mote ye please 
Well to accept, and evermore embrace 
My faithfull service, that by land and seas 
Have vow'd you to defend. Now then, your plaint 

XXX. His lovely words her seemd due recompcnce 
Of all her passed paines: one loving howre 

50 The Faerie Queene 

For n^ny yeares of sorrow can dispence ; 

A dram of sweete is worth a pound of sowre. 

Shee has forgott how many a woeful stowre 
For him she late endurd ; she speakes no more 
Of past: true is, that true love hath no powre 
To looken backe; his eies be fixt before. 

Before h^ stands her knight, for whom she toy Id so sore. 

XXXI. Much like, as when the beaten marinere, 

That long hath wandred in the Ocean wide, 

Ofte soust in swelling Tethys saltish teare ; 

And long time having tand his tawney hide 

With blustring breath of Heaven, that none can bide, 

And scorching flames of fierce Orions hound; 

Soone as the port from far he has espide, 

His chearfull whistle merily doth sound, 

And Nereus crownes with cups; his mates him pledg 

XXXII. Such joy made Una, when her knight she found; 

And eke th’ enchaunter joyous seemde no lesse 
Then the glad marchant, that does vew from ground 
His ship far come from watrie wildernesse; 

He hurles out vowes, and Neptune oft doth blesse. 

So forth they past; and all the way they spent 
Discoursing of her dreadful late distresse. 

In which he askt her, what the Lyon ment; 

Who told her all that fell, in journey as she went. 

XXXIII. They had not ridden far, when they might sec 
One pricking towards them with hastie heat. 

Full strongly armd, and on a courser free 
That through his fiersnessc fomed all with sweat. 

And the sharpe yron did for anger eat. 

When his hot ryder spurd his chauffed side: 

His looke was sterne, and seemed still to threat 
Crucll revenge, which he in hart did hyde; 

And on his shield Sansloy in bloody lines was dyde. 

xxxiv. When nigh he drew unto this gentle payre, 

And saw the Red-crosse which the knight did beare, 
He burnt in fire ; and gan eftsoones prepare 
Himselfc to batteill with his couched speare. 

Book I — Canto III 51 

Loth was that other, and did faint through feare, 

To taste th’ untryed dint of deadly stecle: 

But yet his Lady did so well him chearc, 

That hope of new good hap he gan to fecle; 

So bent his speare, and spurd his horse with yron hecle, 

XKXV. But that proud Paynim forward cafne so force 

And full of wrath, that, with his sharphead speare, 
Through vainly crossed shield he quite did pcrce; 

And, had his staggering steed not shronke*for feare. 
Through shield and body eke he should him bearc: 
Yet, so great was the puissance of his push, 

That from his sadlc quite he did him beare. 

He, tombling rudely downe, to ground did rush, 

And from his gored wound a well of blond did gush. 

XXXVI. Dismounting lightly from his loftie steed, 

He to him lept, in mindc to reave his life, 

And proudly said; “ Lo! there the wortbie meed 
Of him that slew Sansfoy with bloody knife: 
Henceforth his ghost, freed from r(‘[)ining strife, 

In peace may passen over I>ethc lake ; 

When mourning altars, purg(‘d with enimies life, 

The black infernall Furies doen aslakc: 

Life from Sansfoy thou tookst, Sanslov shall from thee 

xxxvir. Therewith in haste his helmet gan unlace, 

'i'ill Una cridc, “ O! hold that hcavie hand. 

Dearc Sir, what ever that thou lx* in place: 

Enough is, that thy foe doth vanquisht stand 
Now at thy mercy; Mercy not withstand; 

For he is one the truest knight alive. 

Though conquered now he lye on lowly land ; 

And, whilcst him fortune favourd, fayre did thrive 
In bloudy field ; therefore, of life him not deprive.” 

xxxviif. Her piteous wordes might not abate his rage. 

But, rudely rending up his helmet, would 

Have slayne him streight; and when he sees his age. 

And hoarie head of Archimago old. 

His hasty hand he doth amased hold. 

And halfc ashamed wondred at the sight: 


The Faerie Queene 

For thfe old man well knew he, though untold. 

In charmes and magick to have wondrous might, 

Ne ever wont in field, ne in round lists, to fight: 

XXXIX. And said, Why Archimago, lucklesse syre. 

What doe I see ? what hard mishap is this, 

That hath thee hether brought to taste mine yre ? 

Or thine the fault, or mine the error is. 

In stead of foe to wound my friend amis? ’’ 
He^nswered nought, but in a traunce still lay. 

And on those guilefull dazed eyes of his 

The cloude of death did sit. Which doen away, 

He left him lying so, ne would no lenger stay; 

XL. But to the virgin comes; who all this while 
Amased stands, her selfe so mockt to see 
By him, who has the guerdon of his guile, 

For so misfeigning her true knight to bee : 

Yet is she now in more perplexitie, 

Left in the hand of that same Paynim bold. 

From whom her booteth not at all to flie : 

Who, by her cleanly garment catching hold, 

Her from her Palfrey pluckt, her visage to behold. 

XLi. But her fiers servant, full of kingly aw 

And high disdaine, whenas his soveraine Dame 
So rudely handled by her foe he saw, 

With gaping jawes full greedy at him came. 

And, ramping on his shield, did weene the same 
Have reft away with hb sharp rending clawes: 

But he was stout, and lust did now inflame 
His corage more, that from his griping pawes 
He hath his shield redeemed, and forth his swerd he 

XLll. 0 1 then, too weake and feeble was the forse 
Of salvage beast his puissance to withstand ; 

For he was strong, and of so mightie corse, 

As ever wielded speare in warlike hand. 

And feates of armes did wisely understand. 

Eft soones he perced through his chaufed chest 
With thrilling point of deadly yron brand, 

And launcht his Lordly hart: with death opprest 
lie ror’d aloud, whiles life forsooke his stubl^rne brest. 


Book I — Canto III 

XLiii. Who now is left to keepe the forlorne Hiaicl 
From raging spoile of lawlesse victors will ? 

Her faithfull gard remov’d, her hope dismaid, 

Her selfe a yielded pray to save or spill : 

He now, Lord of the field, his pride to fill. 

With foule reproches and disdaineful spight 
Her vildly entertaines; and, will or*nill, 

Beares her away upon his courser light: 

Her prayers nought prevaile, his rage is more of might. 

XLiv. And all the way, with great lamenting paine. 

And piteous plaintes, she filleth his dull earcs. 

That stony hart could riven have in twaine; 

And all the way she wetts with flowing tcares; 

But he, enrag’d with rancor, nothing heares. 

Her servile beast yet would not leave her so, 

But followes her far off, nc ought he fcares 
To be partaker of her wondring woe ; 

More mild in beastly kind then that her beastly foe. 



The Faerie Queene 


To sinfull hous of Pryde Duessa 
Ciiiydes the faithfiill knipjht; 

Where, brotliers death to wreak, Sansjoy 
Doth chaleng him to fight 

I. Young knight whatever, that dost armcs professee 
And through long labours huntest after fame, 

Beware of fraud, beware of ficklenesse, 

In choice, and chaunge of thy deare-loved Dame; 

Least thou of her believe too lightly blame. 

And rash misweening doe thy hart remove : 

For unto knight there is no greater shame 
Then lightnesse and inconstancie in love : 

That doth this Redcrosse knights ensample plainly prove. 

n. Who, after that he had faire Una lorne, 

Through light misdeeming of her loialtie; 

And false Duessa in her sted had borne. 

Called Fidess*, and so supposd to be, 

Long with her traveild ; till at last they see 
A goodly building bravely garnished ; 

The house of mightie Prince it seemd to be. 

And towards it a broad high way that led, 

All bare through peoples feet which thethcr travelled. 

III. Great troupes of people traveild thetherward 
Both day and night, of each degree and place; 

But few returned, having scaped hard. 

With balefull beggery, or foule disgrace; 

Which ever after in most wretched case. 

Like loathsome lazars, by the hedges lay. 

Thether Duessa badd him bend his pace. 

For she is wearie of the toilsom way. 

And also nigh consumed is the lingring day. 

IV. A stately Pallace built of squared bricke, 

W hich cunningly was without morter laid, 

Whose wals were high, but nothing strong nor thick 


Book I — Canto IV 

And golden foile all over them displaid,* 

That purest skye with brightnesse they dismaid: 

High lifted up were many loftic towres. 

And goodly galleries far over laid, 

Full of faire windowes and delightful bowres: 

And on the top a Diall told the timely howres. 

V. It was a goodly heape for to behould, 

And spake the praises of the workmans witt; 

But full great pittie, that so faire a mould 
Did on so weake foundation ever sitt: 

For on a sandie hill, that still did flitt 
And fall away, it mounted was full hie, 

That every breath of heaven shaked itt: 

And all the hinder partes, that few could spic. 

Were ruinous and old, but painted cunningly. 

VI. Arrived there, they passed in forth right; 

For still to iill the gates stood open wide: 

Yet charge of them was to a Porter hight, 

Cald Malvenu, who entrance none denide: 

Thence to the hall, which was on every side 
With rich array and costly arras dight. 

Infinite sortes of people did abide 
There waiting long, to win the wished sight 
Of her, that was the Lady of that Pallacc bright, 

VII. By them they passe, all gazing on them round. 

And to the Presence mount ; whose glorious vew 
Their frayle amazed senses <lid confound: 

In living Princes court none ever knew 
Such endlcssc richesse, and so sumpteous shew; 

Ne Persia selfc, the nourse of pompous pride, 

Like ever saw. And there a noble crew 
Of Lords and Ladies stood on every side, 

Which with their presence fayre the place much beautifide, 

VIII. High above all a cloth of State was spred. 

And a rich throne, as bright as sunny day ; 

On which there sate, most brave embellished 
With royall robes and gorgeous array, 

A mayden Quecne that shone as Titans ray, 

In glistring gold and perelesse pretious stone; 

5 6 The Faerie Queene 

Yet her bright blazing beautie did assay 
To dim the brightnesse of her glorious throne, 

As envying her selfe, that too exceeding shone : 

IX. Exceeding shone, like Phoebus fayrest childe, 

That did presume his fathers fyrie wayne. 

And flaming mouthes of steedes, unwonted wilde. 
Through highest heaven with weaker hand to rayne; 
Proud of such glory and advancement vayne. 

While flashing beames do daze his feeble eyen. 

He leaves the welkin way most beaten playne. 

And, rapt with whirling wheeles, inflames the skycn 
With fire not made to burne, but fayrely for to sliyne. 

X. So proud she shyned in her princely state, 

Looking to heaven, for earth she did disdayne. 

And sitting high, for lowly she did hate : 

Lo 1 underneath her scornefull feete was layne 
A dreadfull Dragon with an hideous trayne; 

And in her hand she held a mirrhour bright, 

Wherein her face she often vewed fayne, 

And in her selfe-lov’d semblance took delight; 

For she was wondrous faire, as any living wight. 

XI. Of griesly Pluto she the daughter was, 

And sad Prosperina, the Queene of helle ; 

Yet did she thinke her pcarelesse worth to pas 
That parentage, with pride so did she swell; 

And thundring Jove, that high in heaven doth dwell 
And wield the world, she claymed for her syre, 

Or if that any else did Jove excell; 

For to the highest she did still aspyre, 

Or, if ought higher were than that, did it desyre. 

XII. And proud Lucifera men did her call, 

That made her selfe a Queene, and crownd to be; 

Yet rightfull kingdome she had none at all, 

Nc heritage of native soveraintie; 

But did usurpe with wrong and tyrannic 
Upon the scepter which she now did hold : 

Ne ruld her Realme with lawes, but pollicie. 

And strong advizement of six wisards old, 

That, with their counsels bad, her kingdome did uphold. 

Book I — Canto IV 57 

XI II. Soone as the Elfin knight in presence cafnc, 

And false Duessa, seeming Lady fayre, 

A gentle Husher, Vanitie by name, 

Made rowme, and passage for them did prepaire: 

So goodly brought them to the lowest stayre 
Of her high throne; where they, on humble knee 
Making obeysaunce, did the cause declare. 

Why they were come her roiall state to see, 

To prove the wide report of her great Majestee. 

XIV. With loftie eyes, halfe loth to looke so lowe, 

She thancked them in her disdainefull wise* 

Ne other grace vouchsafed them to showe 
Of Princesse worthy ; scarse them bad arise. 

Her Lordes and Ladies all this while devise 
Themselves to setten forth to slraungers sight : 

Some frounce their curled heare in courtly guise; 

Some prancke their ruffes; and others trimly dight 
Their gay attyre; each others greater pride does spight. 

XV. Goodly they all that knight doe entertayne, 

Right glad with him to have increiist their crew; 

But to Ducss’ each one himsclfe did payne 

All kindnesse and faire courtesie to shew, 

For in that court whylome her well they knew: 

Yet the stout Faery mongst the middest crowtl 
Thought all their glorie vaine in knightly vcw. 

And that great Princesse too exceeding prowd, 

That to strange knight no better countenance allowd. 

XVI. Suddein upriseth from her stately place 

The roiall Dame, and for her coche doth call: 

All hurtlen forth ; and she, with princely pace, 

As faire Aurora in her purple pall 

Out of the Fast the dawning day doth call. 

So forth she comes; her brightnes brode doth blaze. 
The heapes of p(*ople, thronging in the hall, 

Doe ride each other upon her to gaze: 

Her glorious glitterand I'ght doth all mens eics amaze. 

XVII. So forth she comes, and to her coche does clyme. 
Adorned all with gold and girlonds gay. 

That seemed as fresh as Flora in her prime; 


The Faerie Queene 

And stit)ve to match, in roiall rich array, 

Great Junoes golden chayre; the which, they say, 
The gods stand gazing on, when she does ride 
To Joves high hous through heavens bras-paved way, 
Drawne of fayre Pecocks, that excell in pride. 

And full of Argus eyes their tayles dispredden wide. 

XVIII. But this was drawne of six unequall beasts. 

On yhich her six sage Counsellours did ryde, 

Taught to obay their bestiall beheasts. 

With like conditions to their kindes applyde: 

Of which the first, that all the rest did guyde. 

Was sluggish Idlenesse, the nourse of sin; 

Upon a slouthfull Asse he chose to ryde, 

Arayd in habit blacke, and amis thin. 

Like to an holy Monck, the service to begin. 

XIX. And in his hand his Portesse still he bare. 

That much was worne, but therein little redd; 

For of devotion he had little care. 

Still drownd in sleepe, and most of his daies dedd: 
Scarse could he once uphold his heavie hedd. 

To looken whether it were night or day. 

May seeme the wayne was very evill ledd, 

When such an one had guiding of the way. 

That knew not whether right he went, or else astray. 

XX. From worldly cares himselfe he did esloync, 

And greatly shunned manly exercise ; 

From everie worke he chalenged cssoyne. 

For contemplation sake: yet otherwise 
His life he led in lawlesse riotise, 

By which he grew to grievous malady ; 

For in his lustlesse limbs, through evill guise, 

A shaking fever raignd continually. 

Such one was Idlenesse, first of this company. 

XXI. And by his side rode loathsome Gluttony, 

Deformed creature, on a filthie swyne. 

His belly was upblowne with luxury. 

And eke with fatnesse swollen were his eyne; 

And like a Crane his necke was long and fyne 
With which he swallowed up excessive feast. 

Book I — Canto IV 59 

For want whereof poore people oft dichpync: 

And all the way, most like a brutish beast, 

He spued up his gorge, that all did him deteast. 

XXII, In greene vine leaves he was right fitly clad, 

For other clothes he could not ware for hoatc; 

And on his head an yvic girland hafl. 

From under which fast trickleii downe the sweat. 

Still as he rode he somewhat still did cat,^ 

And in his hand did bcare a bouzing <'an, 

Of which he siipt so oft, that on his scat 
His dronken corse he scarse upholdcn can: 

In shape and life more like a monster then a mai?. 

XXIII. Unfit he was for any worldly thing, 

And eke unhablc once to stirre or go ; 

Not meet to be of counsell to a king, 

Whose mind in meat and drinke was drowned so, 
That from his frend he sceldome knew his fo. 

Full of diseases was his carciis blew, 

And a dry dropsie through his flesh did flow. 

Which by misdiet daily greater grew. 

Such one was (duttony, tlic second of tliat crew. 

XXIV. And next to him rode lustfull I^eclicry 

Upon a b(‘arded Gote, whose rugged hcarc, 

And whally (‘its (the signe of gelosy,) 

Was like the person selfe whom he did beare; 

Who rough, and blackc, and filthy, did ajipearc, 
Unseemely man to please faire l^idics eye; 

Yet he of Uulies oft was loved di^are, 

When fairer faces were bid standen Iiy: 

O! wdio d(jes know the bent of womens fantasy? 

XXV. In a greene gowne he clothed w'as full faire, 

Which underneath did hide his filthinesse; 

And in his hand a burning hart he bare, 

Full of vaine follies and new fanglc ncsse; 

For he was false, and fraught with fieklenessc. 

And learned had to love with secret lookes; 

And well could daunce, and sing with ruefiilnesse; 
And fortunes tell, and read in loving bookes, 

And thousand other waies to bait his fleshly hookes. 

6o The Faerie Queene 

XXVI. Inconstant man, that loved all he saw, 

And lusted after all that he did love; 

Ne would his looser life be tide to law, 

But joyd weake wemens hearts to tempt, and prove, 
If from their loyall loves he might them move: 

Which lewdnes fild him with reprochfull pain 
Of that ft)ule evill, which all men reprove. 

That rotts the marrow, and consumes the braine. 
Such one was Lechery, the third of all this traine. 

XXVII. And greedy Avarice by him did ride, 

Uppon a Camell loaden all with gold: 

Two iron coffers hong on either side. 

With precious metall full as they might hold; 

And in his lap an heap of coine he told ; 

For of his wicked pelfe his God he made. 

And unto hell him selfe for money sold : 

Accursed usury was all his trade. 

And right and wrong ylike in equall ballaunce waide. 

xxviii. His life was nigh unto deaths dore yplaste; 

And thred-bare cote, and cobled shoes, hee ware ; 

Ne scarse good morsell all his life did taste. 

But both from backe and belly still did spare, 

To fill his bags, and richesse to compare : 

Yet childc ne kinsman living had he none 
To leave them to ; but thorough daily care 
To get, and nightly feare to lose his owne. 

He led a wretched life, unto himselfe unknowne. 

XXIX. Most wretched wight, whom nothing might sufilse; 
Whose greedy lust did lackc in greatest store; 

Whose need had end, but no end covetise ; 

Whose welth was want, whose plenty made him pore 
W ho had enough, yett wished ever more ; 

A vile disease: and eke in foote and hand 
A grievous gout tormented him full sore, 

Tliat well he could not touch, nor goe, nor stand. 
Such one was Avarice, the fourth of this faire band. 

XXX. And next to him malicious Envy rode 
Upon a ravenous wolfe, and still did chaw 
Between his cankred teeth a venemous tode. 

Book I — Canto IV 6i 

That all the poison ran about his cha\^; 

But inwardly he chawed his owne maw 
At neighbours welth, that made him ever sad, 

For death it was, when any good he saw ; 

And wept, that cause of weeping none he had ; 

But when he heard of harme he wexed wondrous glad. 

XXXI. All in a kirtle of discolourd say 

He clothed was, ypaynted full of eics; 

And in his bosome secretly there lay 
An hatcfull Snake, the which his tiiile uptyes 
In many folds, and mortall sting implyes. 

Still as he rode he gnasht his teeth to see 
Those heapes of gold with griple Covetysc; 

And grudged at the great felicitee 
Of proud Lucifera, and his owne compance, 

XXXII. He hated all good workes and vertuous deeds, 

And him no lesse, that any like did use ; 

And who with gratious bread the hungry feeds, 

His almes for want of faith he doth accuse. 

So every good to bad he doth abuse; 

And eke the verse of famous Poets witt 
He docs backebite, and spightfull poison spues 
From leprous mouth on all that ever writt. 

Such one vile Envy was, that fifte in row did sitt. 

XXXII I. And him beside rides fierce revenging Wrath, 

Upon a Lion, loth for to be led ; 

And in his hand a burning brond he hath. 

The which he brandisheth about his hed: 

His eies did hurlc forth sparcles fiery red. 

And stared sterne on all that him beheld; 

As ashes pale of hew, and seeming ded; 

And on his dagger still his hand he held. 

Trembling thnmgh hasty rage when choler in him swcld. 

XXXIV. His ruffin raiment all was staind with blond 
WTiich he had split, and all to rags yrent, 

Through unadvized rashnes woxen wood; 

For of his hands he had no govemcment, 

Ne car’d for blood in his avengement: 

But, when the furious fitt was overpast. 


The Faerie Queene 

His crvcl facts he often would repent; 

Yet, wilfull man, he never would forecast 
How many mischieves should ensue his heedlesse hast. 

XXXV. Full many mischiefes follow cruell Wrath : 

Abhorred bloodshed, and tumultuous strife, 
Unmanly«murder, and unthrifty scath. 

Bitter despight, with rancours rusty knife, 

And fretting griefe, the enemy of life : 

All*these, and many evils moe haunt ire. 

The swelling Splenc, and Frenzy raging rife. 

The shaking Palsey, and Saint Fraunces fire. 

Such one was Wrath, the last of this ungodly tire. 

xxxvi. And, after all, upon the wagon beamc. 

Rode Sathan with a smarting whip in hand. 

With which he forward lasht the laesy teme. 

So oft as Slowth still in the mire did stand. 

Huge routs of people did about them band, 

Showting for joy; and still before their way 
A foggy mist had covered all the land ; 

And, underneath their feet, all scattered lay 

Dead sculls and bones of men whose life had gone astray. 

xxxvir. So forth they marchen in this goodly sort. 

To tiike the solace of the open aire, 

And in fresh flowring fields themselves to sport : 
Emonght the rest rode that false Lady faire. 

The foule Duessa, next unto the chairc 
Of proud Lucifer’, as one of the traine: 

But that good knight would not so nigh repaire. 

Him selfe estraunging from their joyaiince vaine. 
Whose fellowship seemd far unfitt for warlike swaine. 

xxxviii. So, having solaced themselves a space 

With pleasaunce of the breathing fields yfed, 

They backe retoumed to the princely Place ; 

Whereas an errant knight in armes ycled, 

And hcathnish shield, wherein with letters red. 

Was writt Sam^joy, they new arrived find: 

Enflam’d with fury and fiers hardy hed, 

He seemd in hart to harbour thoughts unkind, 

And nourish bloody vengeance in his bitter mind. 


Book I — Canto IV 

XXXIX. Who, when the shamed shield of slaine SAnsfoy 
He spide with that same Faery champions page. 
Bewraying him that did of late destroy 
His eldest brother; burning all witli rage, 

He to him lept, and that same envious gage 
Of victors glory from him snacht away : 

But th’ Elfin knight, whicli ouglit that* warlike wage, 
Disdaind to loose the meed he wonne in fray ; 

And, him rencountring fierce, reskewd the no^le pray. 

XL. Therewith they gan to hurtlcn greedily, 

Redoubted battaile ready to darraync, 

And clash their shields, and shake their swerds on hy, 
That with their stiirre they troubled all the traine; 

Till that great Qiieene, upon eternall paine 
Of high displeasure that ensewen might, 

Commaunded them their fur>^ to refraine ; 

And, if that either to that shield had right, 

In cquall lists they should the morrow next it fight. 

xi.i. ** Ah dearest Damc,^* quoth then the Paynim bold, 

“ Pardon the error of enraged wight, 

Whome great griefe made forgett the raines to hold 
Of reasons rule, to see this recreaunt knight. 

No knight, but trcachour full of false despight 
And shameful treason, who through guile hath slayn 
The prowest knight that ever field did fight, 

Even stout Sansfoy, (O who can then refrayn?) 

Whose shield he beares ren verst, the more to heap disdayn. 

XLii. “ And, to augment the glorie of his guile. 

His dearest love, the faire Fidessa, loc I 
Is there possessed of the tray tour vile; 

Who reapes the harvest so wen by his foe, 

Sowen in bloodie field, and bought with woe: 

That brothers hand shall dearcly well requight. 

So be, O Queene! you cquall favour showe.’^ 

Him litle answ'erd th’ angry Elfin knight; 

He never meant with words, but swords, to plead his right : 

XLiii. But threw his gauntlet, as a sacred pledge 
His cause in combat the next day to try : 

So been they parted both, with harts on edge 


The Faerie Queene 

To be atcng’d each on his enimy. 

That night they pas in joy and jollity. 

Feasting and courting both in bowre and hall ; 

For Steward was excessive Gluttony, 

That of his plenty poured forth to all : 

Which doen, the Chamberlain, Slowth, did to rest them call. 

XLiv. Now wheras darkesome night had all displayed 
Her ^oleblacke curtein over brightest skye ; 

The warlike youthes, on dayntie couches layd. 

Did chace away sweet slcepe from sluggish eye, 

To muse on meanes of hoped victory. 

But whenas Morpheus had with leaden mace 
Arrested all that courtly company. 

Uprose Duessa from her resting place. 

And to the Paynims lodging comes with silent pace. 

XLV. Whom broad awake she findes, in troublous fitt. 
Fore-casting how his foe he might annoy; 

And him amoves with speaches seeming fitt: 

** Ah deare Sansjoy, next dearest to Sansfoy, 

Cause of my new griefe, cause of my new joy; 

Joyous to see his ymage in mine eye. 

And greevd to thinke how foe did him destroy. 

That was the flow re of grace and chevalrye ; 

Lo ! his Fidcssa, to thy secret faith I flye.’* 

XLVi. With gentle wordes he can her fay rely greet, 

And bad say on the secrete of her hart : 

Then, sighing soft; “ I learne that litle sw'eet 
Oft tempred is,” (quoth she,) “ with muchell smart: 

For since my brest was launcht with lovely dart 
Of deare Sansfoy, I never joyed howre. 

But in eternall woes my weaker hart 
Have wasted, loving him with all my powre. 

And for his sake have felt full many an heavie stowre. 

XLVii. “ At last, when perils all I weened past. 

And hop’d to reape the crop of all my care. 

Into new woes unweeting I was cast 
By this false faytor, who unworthie ware 
His worthie shield, whom he with guilefull snare 
Entrapped slew, and brought to shamefull grave : 


Book I — Canto IV 

Me, silly maid, away with him he bare, • 

And ever since hath kept in darksom cave, 

For that I would not yceld that to Sansfoy I gave. 

XL VIII. But since faire Siinne hath sperst that lowring clowd, 
And to my loathed life now shewes some light, 

Under your beames I will me safely shfowd 
From dreaded storme of his disdainfull spight: 

To you th’ inheritance belonges by' right 
Of brothers prayse, to you eke longcs his love. 

"Let not his love, let not his restlesse spright, 

Be unreveng’d, that calles to you above 
From wandring Stygian shores, where it doth cndlcsse 

XLix. Thereto said he, “ Faire Dame, be nought dismaid 
For sorrowes past; their griefe is with them gone: 

Ne yet of present perill be affraid, 

For ncedlesse feare did never vantage none; 

And helplesse hap it booteth not to mone. 

Dead is Sansfoy, his vitall paines are past, 

Though greeved ghost for vengeance deep do grone: 
He lives that shall him pay his dewties last, 

And guiltie Elfin blood shall sacrifice in hast.” 

' “O! but I feare the fickle freakes,” (quoth shoe) 

“ Of fortune false, and oddes of armes in field.” 

“ Why, dame,” (quoth he) ” what oddes can ever bee, 
Where both doe fight alike, to win or yicld.^ ” 

** Yea, but,” (quoth she) ” he beares a charmed shield, 
And eke enchaunted armes; that none can perce, 

Ne none can wound the man that does them wield.” 

“ Charmd or enchaunted,” answered he then force, 

“ I no whitt reck; nc you the like need to rcherce. 

LI. “ But, faire Fidessa sithens fortunes guile. 

Or enimies powre, hath now captived you, 

Returne from whence ye came, and rest a while, 

Till morrow next that I the Elfe subdew, 

And with Sansfoyes dead dowry you endew.” 

** Ah me! that is a double death,” (she said) 

“ With proud foes sight my sorrow to renew. 

Where ever yet I be, my secret aide 

Shall follow you.” So, passing forth, she him obaid. 


The Faerie Queenc 


•The faithfull knight in equall field 
Subdewes his faithlesse foe; 

Whom false Diiessa saves, and for 
His cure to hell does goe. 

I. The noble hart that harbours vertuous thought. 

And is with childe of glorious great intent, 

Can never rest, untill it forth have brought 
Th* eternall brood of glorie excellent: 

Such restlesse passion did all night torment 
The flaming corage of that Faery knight. 

Devizing how that doughtie turnament 
With greatest honour he atchieven might: 

Still did he wake, and still did watch for dawning light. 

ij. At last, the golden Orientall gate 
Of greatest heaven gan to open fayre ; 

And Phoebus, fresh as brydegrome to his mate, 

Came dauncing forth, shaking his deawie hayre. 

And hurld his glistring beams through gloomy ayre. 
Which when the wakeful Fife perceiv’d, streight way. 
He started up, and did him selfe prepayre 
In sunbright armes, and battailous array ; 

For with that Pagan proud he combatt will that day. 

III. And forth he comes into the commune hall; 

Where earcly waite him many a gazing eye. 

To weet what end to straunger knights may fall. 

There many Minstralcs maken melody. 

To drive away the dull melancholy ; 

And many liardes, that to the trembling chord 
Can tune their timely voices cunningly; 

And many Chroniclers, that can record 

Old loves, and warres for Ladies doen by many a Lord. 

IV. Soone after comes the cruell Sarazin, 

In woven maile all armed warily; 

And sternly lookes at him, who not a pm 


Book I — Canto V 

Does care for looke of livinpj creatures eye. 

They bring them wines of Greece and Araby, 

And daintie spices fetch from furthest Ynd, 

To kindle heat of coragc privily ; 

And in the wine a solemne oth thy bynd 
T* observe the sacred lawes of armes that are assynd. 

V. At last forth comes that fai renowned Queenc: 

With royall pomp and princely niajcstie 
She is ybrought unto a paled greene, 

And phaced under stalely canapee, 

The warlike feates of both those knights to see. 

On th’ other side in all mens o|)en vew 

Duessa placed is, and on a tree 

Sansfoy his shield is hangd with bloody hew; 

Both those the lawrell girlonds to the victor dew. 

VI. A shrilling trompett sownded from on hye, 

And unto battaill bad them selves addresser 
Their shining shieldes about their wrestes they tye, 

And burning blades about their heades doe blesso, 

The instruments of wrath and heavinesse. 

With greedy force each other doth assayle. 

And strike so fiercely, that they do impresse 
Deepe dinted furrowes in the battred maylc: 

The yron wallcs to ward their blowes are weak and fraile. 

VII. The Sarazin was stout and wondrous strong, 

And heaped blowes like yron hammers great; 

For after blood and vengeance he did long: 

The knight was Tiers, and full of yoiithly heat. 

And doubled strokes, like dreaded thunders threat; 

For all for praise and honour he did fight. 

Both stricken stryke, and beaten both doe beat, 

That from their shields forth flyeth firie light, 

And hew'en helmets deepe shew marks of cithers might. 

VIII. So th’ one for wrong, the other strives for right. 

As when a Gryfon, seized of his pray, 

A Dragon fiers encountreth in his flight, 

Through widest ayre making his ydle way, 

That would his rightfull ravine rend away: 

With hideous horror both together smight, 


The Faerie Queene 

And sou<?e so sore that they the heavens affray; 

The wise Soothsayer, seeing so sad sight, 

Th' amazed vulgar telles of warres and mortall fight. 

IX. So th’ one for wrong, the other strives for right, 

And each to deadly shame would drive his foe: 

The cruell stcele so greedily doth bight 
In tender flesh, that streames of blood down flow ; 
With.which the armes, that earst so bright did show, 
Into a pure vermillion now are dyde. 

Great ruth in all the gazers harts did grow. 

Seeing the gored woundes to gape so wyde, 

That victory they dare not wish to either side. 

X. At last the Paynim chaunst to cast his eye, 

His suddein eye flaming with wrathfull fyre. 

Upon his brothers shield, which hong thereby: 
Therewith redoubled was his raging yre, 

And said; ‘‘Ah! wretched sonne of wofull syre, 

Doest thou sit wayling by blacke Stygian lake, 
Whylest here thy shield is hangd for victors hyre ? 
And, sluggish german, doest thy forces slake 
To after-send his foe, that him may overtake ? 

XI. “ Goe, caytive Elfe, him quickly overtake. 

And soone redeeme from his long-wandring woe: 

Goe, guiltie ghost, to him my message make. 

That I his shield have quit from dying foe.” 

Therewith upon his crest he stroke him so, 

That twise he reeled, readie twise to fall: 

PLnd of the doubtfull battaile deemed tho 
The lookers on; and lowd to him gan call 
The false Duessa, “ Thine the shield, and I, and all ! ’’ 

XII. Soone as the Faerie heard his Ladie speake. 

Out of his swowning dreame he gan awake; 

And quickning faith, that earst w^as woxen weake. 

The creeping deadly cold away did shake: 

Tho mov’d with wrath, and shame, and Ladies sake, 
Of all attonce he cast avengd to be. 

And with so’ exceeding furie at him strake. 

That forced him to stoupe upon his knee: 

Had he not stouped so, he should have cloven bee. 

Book I — Canto V 69 

XIII. And to him said; “ Goe now, proud Misd-eant, 

Thyselfe thy message do to german deare ; 

Alone he, wandring, thee too long doth want: 

Goe say, his foe thy shield with his doth beare.’* 
Therewith his heavie hand he high gan rcare. 

Him to have slaine; when lo! a darkesome clowd 
Upon him fell: he no where doth appeare, 

But vanisht is. The Elfe him calls alowd. 

But answer none receives; the darknes him does shroxsd. 

XIV. In haste Duessa from her place arose, 

And to him running said; “ O! prowest knight, 

That ever Ladie to her love did chose, 

Let now abate the terrour of your might, 

And quench the tlame of furious despight, 

And bloodie vengeance: lo! th’ infernall powres, 
Covering your foe with cloud of deadly night, 

Have borne him hence to Plutocs balcfull bowres: 

The conquest yours; I yours; the shield, and glory yours.” 

XV. Not all so satisfide, with greedy eye 

He sought all round about, his thristy blade 
To bathe in blood of faithlesse enimy ; 

Who all that while lay hid in secret shade. 

He standes amazed how he thence should fade: 

At last the trumpets Triumph sound on hie; 

And running Heralds humble homage made, 

Greeting him goodly with new victorie. 

And to him brought the shield, the cause of enmilie. 

XVI. Wherewith he goeth to that soveraine Queene; 

And falling her before on lowly knee, 

To her makes present of his service scene: 

Which she accepts with thankes and goodly gree, 
Greatly advauncing his gay chevalree: 

So marcheth home, and i>y her takes the knight, 

Whom all the people follow c with great glee, 

Shouting, and clapping all their hands on hight, 

That all the ayre it fills, and flyes to heaven bright. 

XVII. Home is he brought, and layd in sumptous bed, 

Where many skilfull leaches him abide 

To salve his hurts, that yet still freshly bled. 


The Faerie Queene 

In wine ftnd oyle they wash his woundes wide, 

And softly gan embalme on everie side: 

And all the while most heavenly melody 
About the bed sweet musicke did divide, 

Him to beguile of griefe and agony; 

And all the while Duessa wept full bitterly. 

XVIII. As when a wearie traveller, that strayes 

By iTjuddy shore of broad seven-mouthed Nile, 
Unweeting of the perillous wandring wayes. 

Doth meete a cruell craftie Crocodile, 

Which, in false griefe hyding his harmefull guile. 

Doth weepe full sore, and sheddeth tender teares ; 

The foolish man, that pities all this while 

His mournefull plight, is swallowed up unwares, 

Forgetfull of his owne that mindes an others cares. 

XIX. So wept Duessa untill evcntyde, 

That shyning lampes in Joves high house were light; 
Then forth she rose, ne lenger would abide. 

But comes unto tl e place where th’ Hethen knight, 
In slombring swovynd, nigh voyd of vitall spright, 

Lay cover’d with inchaunted cloud all day: 

Whom when she found, as she him left in plight. 

To wayle his wofull case she would not stay. 

But to the Easterne coast of heaven makes speedy way : 

XX. Where gricsly Night, with visage deadly sad. 

That Phoebus chearefull face durst never vew, 

And in a foule blacke pitchy mantle clad, 

She findes forth comming from her darksome mew, 
Where she all day did hide her hated hew. 

Before the dore her yron charet stood. 

Already harnessed for journey new. 

And cole blacke steedes yborne of hellish brood. 

That on their rusty bits did champ as they were wood. 

XXI. Who when she saw Duessa, sunny bright, 

Adornd with gold and jewels shining cleare. 

She greatly grew amazed at the sight. 

And th* unacquainted light began to feare. 

For never did such brightnes there appeare; 

And would have backc retyred to her cave, 

7 * 

Book I — Canto V 

Untill the witches speach she gan to hcarc, 

Saying; ** Yet, O thou dreaded Dame! I crave 
Abyde, till I have told the message which I have.” 

XXII. She stayd; and foorth Duessa gan proceede: 

“ O ! thou most auncient Grandmother of all, 

More old then Jove, whom thou at first didst breede, 

Or that great house of Gods ca?lestiall, 

Which wast begot in Daemogorgons hall. 

And sawst the secrets of the world unmade,* 

Why suffredst thou thy Nephewes deare to fall, 

With Elfin sword most shamefully betrade? 

Lo 1 where the stout Sansjoy doth sleepe in deadly shade. 

XXIII. “ And him before, I saw with hitter eyes 

The bold Sansfoy shrinck underneath his spciire : 

And now the pray of fowlcs in field he lyes, 

Nor wayld of friends, nor layd on groning l>earc. 

That whylome was to me too dearely dcarc. 

O! wliat of gods then boots it to be l)ornc. 

If old Aveugles sonnes so evill heare ? 

Or who shall not great Nightes children scorne, 

When two of three her Nephewes are so fowle forlorne? 

XXIV. ” Up, then! up, dreary Dame, of darknes Qiicene! 

Go, gather up the reliques of thy race ; 

Or else goe them avenge, and let he scene 
That dreaded Night in brightest day hath place. 

And can the children of fayre light deface/’ 

Her feeling spcaches some compassion mov'd 
In hart, and chaunge in that great motlicrs face: 

Yet pitty in her heart was never prov’d 
Till then, for evermore she hated, never lov’d: 

XXV. And said, “ Deare daughter, rightly may I rew 
The fall of famous children borne of mee, 

And good successes which their foes ensew : 

But who can turne the stream of destinre, 

Or breake the chayne of strong nccessitc(*. 

Which fast is tyde to Joves eternall seat? 

The sonnes of Day he favourcth, 1 sec. 

And by my mines thinkes to make them great: 

To make one great by others losse is bad cxchcat. 


The Faerie Queene 

Did hirfi appease ; then downe his taile he hong. 

And suffered them to passen quietly ; 

For she in hell and heaven had power equally. 

XXXV. There was Ixion turned on a wheele, 

For daring- tempt the Queene of heaven to sin ; 

And Sisyjmus an huge round stone did rcele 
Against an hill, ne might from labour lin; 

The^e thristy Tantalus hong by the chin ; 

And Tityus fed a vulture on his maw ; 

Typhoeus joynts were stretched on a gin ; 

Theseus condemned to endlesse slouth by law; 

And fifty sisters water in leke vessels draw. 

XXXVI. They all, beholding worldly wights in place. 

Leave off their worke, unmindfull of their smart, 

To gaze on them ; who forth by them doe pace, 

Till they be come unto the furthest part ; 

Where was a Cave ywrought by wondrous art, 

Deepe, darke, uneasy, doleful, comfortlesse. 

In which sad Aesculapius far apart 
Emprisond was in chaines remedilesse; 

For that Hippolytus rent corse he did redresse. 

XXXVII. Hippolytus a jolly huntsman was, 

That wont in charett chace the foming bore : 

He all his Pceres in beauty did surpas, 

But Ladies love as losse of time forbore: 

His wanton stepdame loved him the more ; 

But, when she saw her offred sweets refusd. 

Her love she tumd to hate, and him before 
His father fierce of treason false accusd. 

And with her gealous termes his open eares abusd: 

xxxviii. Who, all in rage, his Sea-god syre besought 

Some cursed vengeaunce on his sonne to cast. 

From surging gulf two Monsters streight were brought, 
With dread whereof his chacing steedes aghast 
Both charett swifte and huntsman overcast: 

His goodly corps, on ragged cliffs yrent. 

Was quite dismembered, and his members chast 
Scattered on every mountaine as he went. 

That of Hippolytus was lefte no moniment. 


Book I — Canto V 

XXXIX. His cniell step-dame, seeing what was donne, 

Her wicked daies with wretched knife did end, 

In death avowing th* innocence of her sonne. 

Which hearing, his rash syre began to rend 
His heare, and hasty tong that did offend: 

Tho, gathering up the reliques of his smart, 

By Dianes meancs, who was Hippolyts frend, 

Them brought to Acsculape, that by his art 
Did hcale them all againe, and joyned every part. 

XL. Such wondrous science in mans witt to rain 
When Jove avizd, that could the dead revive, 

And fates expired could renew again, 

Of cndlessc life he might him not depiive, 

But unto hell did thrust him downe alive, 

With flashing thunderbolt ywoiindcd sore: 

Where, long remaining, he did alwaies strive 
Himselfc with salves to health for to restore, 

And slake the heavenly fire that raged evermore. 

XLi. There auncient Night arriving did alight 

From her high weary wayne, and in her armes 
To Aesculapius brought the wounded knight: 

Whome having softly rlisaraid of armes, 

Tho gan to him discover all his harrnes. 

Beseeching him with prayer and with praise, 

If either salves, or oyles, or herbes, or eharmes, 

A fordonne wight from dorc of death mote raise, 

He would at her request prolong Ikt nephews daies. 

XLii. “ Ah Dame,” (quoth he) “ thou temptest me in vaine, 
To dare the thing, which daily yet I rew, 

And the old cause of my continued painc 
With like attempt to like end to ri new. 

Is not enough, tliat, thrust from heaven dew, 

Here endlesse penaunce for one fault I pay. 

But that redoubled crime with vengeaunce new 
Thou biddest me to ceke? Can Night defray 
The wrath of thundring Jove, that rules both night and 
day? ” 

XLiil. “ Not so,” (quoth she) “ but, sith that heavens king 
From hope of heaven hath thee excluded quight, 


The Faerie Queene 

Why fewest thou, that canst not hope for thing; 

And fearest not that more thee hurten might, 

Now in the powre of everlasting Night? 

Goe to then, O thou far renowmed sonne 
Of great Apollo ! shew thy famous might 
In medicine, that els hath to thee wonne 
Great paina, and greater praise, both never to be donne.” 

XLiv. Her words prevaild : And then the learned leach 
His Ajnning hand gan to his wounds to lay, 

And all things els the which his art did teach: 

Which having seene, from thence arose away 
The mother of dredd darknesse, and let stay 
Aveugles sonne there in the leaches cure ; 

And, backe retourning, took her wonted way 
To ronne her timely race, whilst Phoebus pure 
In westerne waves his weary wagon did recure. 

XLV. The false Duessa, leaving noyous Night, 

Returned to stately pallace of Dame Pryde: 

Where when she came, she found the Faery knight 
Departed thence ; albee his woundes wyde 
Not throughly hcald unready were to ryde. 

Good cause he had to hasten thence away ; 

For on a day his wary Dwarfe had spyde 

Where in a dungeon deepe huge noml>ers lay 

Of cay live wretched thralls, that way led night and day: 

XLVi. A rucfuJl sight as could be seene with eie; 

Of whom he learned had in secret wise 
The hidden cause of their captivitie ; 

How mortgaging their lives to Covetise, 

Through wastfull Pride and wanton Riotise, 

They were by law of that proud Tyrannesse, 

Provokt with Wrath and Envyes false surmise, 
Condemned to that Dongeon mercilesse, 

Where they should live in wo, and dye in wretchednessc. 

XLVii. There was that great proud king of Babylon, 

That would compell all nations to adore, 

And him as onely God to call upon; 

Till, through celestiall doome thrown out of dore. 

Into an Oxe he was transformd of yore. 


Book I — Canto V 

There also was k\n^ Croesus, that enhaunst 
His hart too high through his great richessc store ; 

And proud Antiochiis, the which advaunst 
Ilis cursed hand gainst God, and on his <iltares <launst. 

XLViii. And them long time before, great Ximrod w:is. 

That first the world with swonl and fire warraytl; 

And after him old Niiuis far did |ias 
In princely pomp, of all the world obayd. 

There also was that mightie Monarch layd * 

Low under all, yet above all in pride. 

That name of native syre did fowle upbrayd, 

And would as Ammons sonne be magnilied, 

Till, scornd of God and man, a shamefull dt ath he dide. 

XLix. All these together in one heape were throw lie, 
lake carka^^es of beastcs in butchers stall. 

And in another corner wide were strowne 
The Antique ruins of the Romanes fall: 

Great Romulus, the Grandsyre of them all; 

Proud Tarquin, and too lordly Ivcntulus; 

Stout Scij)io, and stubborne Hanniball; 

Ambitious Sylla, and sternc Marius; 

High Caesar, great Pompey, and Tiers Antonins. 

L. Amongst these mightie men were wemen mixt, 

Proud wemen, vaine, forgetfiill of their >oke; 

The bold Semiramis, whose sides transfixt 
With sonnes own blade her fowle reproches spoke: 
Fayrc Sthenoboea, that her selfe did dioke 
With wilfull chord for wanting of her will; 

High minded Cleopatra, that with .stroke 
Of Aspes sting her selfe did stoutly kill; 

And thousands moe the like that did that dongcon fill. 

LI. Besides the endlcsse routes of wretched thrallcs, 

Which thither were assembled day liy day 
From all the world, after their wofull fallcs, 

Tlirough wicked pride and w^asted welthes decay. 

But most of all, which in that dongcon lay. 

Fell from high Princes courtes, or Ladies bowres. 
Where they in ydle pomp, or wanton play. 

Consumed had their goods and thriftlessc howres, 

And lastly thrown themselves into these heavy stowres. 


j8 The Faerie Quecne 

Lii. Whose «ase whenas the careful Dwarfe had tould, 
And made ensample of their mournfull sight 
Unto his Maister, he no longer would 
There dwell in perill of like painefull plight, 

But earely rose; and, ere that dawning light 
Discovered had the world to heaven wyde, 

He by a pfivy Posterne tooke his flight, 

That of no envious eyes he mote be spyde; 
For^^doubtlesse, death ensewd if any him descryde. 

Liii. Scarse could he footing find in that fowle way, 

For many corses, like a great Lay-stall, 

Of murdred men, which therein s trowed lay 
Without remorse or decent funerall; 

Which al through that great Princesse pride did fall, 
And came to shamefull end. And them besyde. 
Forth ryding underneath the castell wall, 

A Donghill of dead carcases he spyde; 

The dreadfull spectacle of that sad house of Pryde. 

Book I — Canto VI 



From lawlesse lust by rt'ondn'us grdlco 
FavTC Una is rcleast: 

Whom salvage nation dt^s adore, 

And leariics her wise bcheast. 

I. As when a ship, that fives fayre under sayle, 

An hidden rocke escaped hath un wares, 

'rhat lay in waite her wrack for to hewaile, 

'Fhe Marrincr yet halfc amazed stares 
At perill past, and yet in doubt nc dares 
To joy at his foolhappie oversight: 

So doubly is distrest twixt joy and cares 
The dreadlesse corage of this Elfin knight, 

Having escapt so sad ensamplcs in his sight. 

II. Yet sad he was, that his too hastic speed 
The fayre Duess’ had forst him leave behind; 

And yet more sad, that Una, his deare dreed, 

Her truth hath staynd with treason so unkind: 

Yet cryme in her could never creature find; 

But for his love, and for her own selfe sake. 

She wandred had from one to other Ynd, 

Him for to seeke, ne ever would forsake, 

Till her unwares the fiers Sansloy did overtake: 

III. Who, after Archimagoes fowle defeat, 

Led her away into a forest wilde; 

And, turning wrathfull fyre to lustfull heat, 

With beastly sin thought her to have defilde. 

And made the vassall of his pleasures vilde. 

Yet first he cast by treatie, and by traynes 
Her to persuade that stublx>rne fort to yildc: 

For greater conquest of hard love he gaynes, 

That workes it to his will, then he that it constraincs. 

IV. With fawning wordes he courted her a while ; 

And, looking lovely and oft sighing sore, 

Her constant hart did tempt with diverse guile: 


The Faerie Queene 

But woQdes^ and lookes^ and sighes she did abhore ; 

As rock of Diamond stedfast evermore. 

Yet for to feed his fyne lustfull eye. 

He snatcht the vele that hong her face before : 

Then gan her beautie shyne as brightest skye, 

And burnt his beastly hart t’efforce her chastitye. 

V. So when he saw his flatt’ring artes to fayle, 

And subtile engines bett from batteree ; 

Witfi greedy force he gan the fort assayle, 

Whereof he weend possessed soone to bee, 

And win rich spoile of ransackt chastitee. 

Ah heavens I that doe this hideous act behold, 

And heavenly virgin thus outraged see. 

How can ye vengeance just so long withhold, 

And hurle not flashing flames upon that Paynim bold ? 

VI. The pitteous mayden, carefull, comfortlesse. 

Does throw out thrilling shriekes, and shrieking cryes, 
The last vaine helpe of wemens great distresse. 

And with loud plaintes importuneth the skyes, 

That molten starres doe drop like weeping eyes; 

And Phoebus, flying so most shamefull sight. 

His blushing face in foggy cloud implyes, 

And hydes for shame. What witt of mortal wight 
Can now devise to quitt a thrall from such a plight? 

VII. Etcrnall providence, exceeding thought, 

Where none appeares can make her selfe a way. 

A wondrous way it for this Lady wrought. 

From Lyons clawes to pluck the gryped pray. 

Her shrill outcryes and shrieks so loud did bray. 

That all the woodes and forestes did resownd : 

A troupe of Faunes and Satyres far away 
Within the wood were dauncing in a rownd. 

Whiles old Sylvanus slept in shady arber sownd : 

VIII. Wlio, when they heard that pitteous strained voice. 

In haste forsooke their rurall meriment. 

And ran towardes the far rebownded noyce. 

To weet what wight so loudly did lament. 

Unto the place they come incontinent: 

Whom when the raging Sarazin espyde. 

Book I — Canto VI 8i 

A rude, mishapen, monstrous rablement, ^ 

Whose like he never saw, he durst not byde. 

But got his ready steed, and fast away gan ryde. 

IX. The wyld woodgods, arrived in the place. 

There find the virgin, doolfull, desolate. 

With ruffled rayments, and fay re blublired face. 

As her outrageous foe had left her late ; 

And trembling yet through feare of former hate. 

All stand amazed at so uncouth sight. 

And gin to pittie her unhappie state : 

All stand astonied at her bcautie bright, 

In their nide eyes unworthie of so wofull plight. 

X. She, more amazd, in double dread doth dwell ; 

And every tender part for feare does shake. 

As when a greedy Wolfe, through hunger fell, 

A seely Lamb far from the flock docs take, 

Of whom he meanes his bloody feast to make, 

A Lyon spyes fast running towards him, 

The innocent pray in hast he does forsake ; 

Which, quitt from death, yet quakes in every lim 
With chaunge of feare, to see the Lyon lookc so grim. 

XI. Such fearefull fitt assaid her trembling hart, 

Ne word to speake, ne joynt to move, she had; 

The salvage nation feele her secret smart. 

And read her sorrow in her count’nance sad ; 

Their frowning forheades, with rough homes yclad. 

And rustick horror, all asyde doc lay ; 

And, gently grenning, shew a semblance glad 
To comfort her; and, feare to put away, 

Their backward bent knees teach her humbly to obay. 

XII. The doubtfull Damzell dare not yet committ 
Her single person to their barbarous truth; 

But still twixt feare and hope amazd docs sitt. 

Late learnd what harme to hasty trust ensuTh. 

They, in compassion of her tender youth. 

And wonder of her beautie soverayne. 

Are wonne with pitty and unwonted ruth; 

And, all prostrate upon the lowly playne. 

Doe kisse her feete, and fawne on her with count’nance 

82 The Faerie Queene 

XIII. Their h^rts she ghesseth by their humble guise. 

And yieldes her to extremitie of time : 

So from the ground she fearelesse doth arise, 

And walketh forth without suspect of crime. 

They, all as glad as birdes of joyous Pry me, 

Thence lead her forth, about her dauncing round, 
Shouting,^nd singing all a shepheards ryme; 

And with greene braunches strowing all the ground. 
Do worship her as Queene with olive girlond cround. 

XIV. And all the way their merry pipes they sound. 

That all the woods with doubled Eccho ring; 

And with their horned feet doe weare the ground. 
Leaping like wanton kids in pleasant Spring. 

So towards old Sylvanus they her bring; 

Who, with the noyse awaked, commeth out 
To weet the cause, his weake steps governing 
And aged limbs on cyprcsse stadle stout; 

And with an y vie twyne his waste is girt about. 

XV. Far off he wonders what them makes so glad; 

Or Bacchus merry fruit they did invent. 

Or Cybcles franticke rites have made them mad: 

They, drawing nigh, unto their God present 
That flowre of fayth and beau tie excellent. 

The God himselfe, vewing that mirrhour rare. 

Stood long amazd, and burnt in his intent: 

His owne fayre Dryope now he thinkes not faire. 

And Pholoe fowle, when her to this he doth compaire. 

xvT. The woodborne people fall before her flat, 

And worship her as Goddesse of the wood; 

And old Sylvanus selfe bethinkes not what 
To thinke of wight so fayre, but gazing stood 
In doubt to deeme her borne of earthly brood; 
Sometimes dame Venus selfe he seemes to see; 

But Venus never had so sober mood: 

Sometimes Diana he her takes to be, 

But mibseth bow and shaftes, and buskins to her knee. 

xviT. By vew of her he ginneth to revive 

His ancient love, and dearest Cyparisse; 

And calles to mind his pourtraiture alive. 

Book I — Canto VI 83 

How fayre he was, and yet not fayro to this; 

And how he slew with glauncint: dart aniissc 
A gentle Hynd, the which the Uucly boy 
Did love as life, above all worMly blisse; 

For griefe whereof the lad n'ould after joy, 

But pynd away in anguish and sclfe-wild annoy. 

XVIII. The wooddy nymphos, fairc Hamadryades, 

Her to behold do thither ninnc apace; 

And all the troupe of light-foot Naiades 
Flocke all about to see her lovely face ; 

But, w^hen tliey vewed ha\ e her heawnly, 

They envy her in their mahtKHis mind. 

And fly away for feare of fowle di^^ 

But all the Salyres scorne their woody kind. 

And henceforth nothing faire but her on earth they find. 

XIX. Glad of such lucke, the luckeless<‘ hu ky mayd 
Did her content to please their feei)le eyes, 

And long time with that salvage people stayd. 

To gather breath in manv misery es. 

During w'hich time her gentle wot she plves 
To teach them truth, wha h w'orslupt her in vaino, 

And made her th’ Image of blolatryes; 

But when their bootlesse zcale she did rc'-trayne 
From her own worship, they her Assc would worsliip fayn, 

XX. It fortuned, a noble warlike kniglit 
By just occasion to that forrest came 
To seeke his kindred, and the lignage riylit 
From whence he tookc his wcldeserved name: 

He had in armes abroad w'onn(‘ muchell fame, 

And fild far landes with glonc of his might: 

Plaine, faithfull, true, and cnimy of shame. 

And ever lov''d to fight for Ladies right; 

But in vaine glorious frayes he litle did delight. 

XXI. A Satyres sonne, ybomc in forrest wyld, 

By straunge adventure as it did betyde, 

And there begotten of a Lady myld, 

Fayre Thyamis, the daughter of I^tibryde ; 

That was in sacred bandcs of wc^llocke tyde 
To Therion, a loose unruly swayne. 


The Faerie Queene 

Who had more joy to raunge the forrest wyde. 

And chise the salvage beast with busie payne, 

Then serve his Ladies love, and waste in pleasures vayne. 

The forlome mayd did with loves longing bume, 

And could not lacke her lovers company ; 

But to the woods she goes, to serve her turne, 

And seeke*her spouse that from her still does fly. 

And followes other game and venery : 

A S^tyre chaunst her wandring for to finde; 

And, kindling coles of lust in brutish eye, 

The loyall linkes of wedlocke did unbinde, 

And made her person thrall unto his beastly kind. 

XXIII. So long in secret cabin there he held 
Her captive to his sensuall desyre, 

Till that with timely fruit her belly swcld. 

And bore a boy unto that salvage syre: 

Then home he suflred her for to retyrc, 

For ransome leaving him the late-borne childe; 

Whom, till to ryper yeares he gan aspyre, 

He nousled up in life and manners wilde, 

Fmongst wilde beastes and woods, from lawes of men 

XXIV. For all he taught the tender ymp was but 
To banish cowardize and bastard feare: 

His trembling hand he would him force to put 
Upon the Lyon and the rugged Beare; 

And from the she Beares teats her whelps to teare; 

And eke wyld roring Buis he would him make 
To tame, and ryde their backes, not made to beare; 

And the Robuckes in flight to overtake, 

That everie beast for feare of him did fly, and quake. 

XXV. Thereby so fearlesse and so fell he grew. 

That his own syre, and maister of his guise. 

Did often tremble at his horrid vew ; 

And oft, for dread of hurt, would him advise 
The angry beastes not rashly to despise. 

Nor too much to prov’oke; for he would learna 
The Lyon stoup to him in lowly wise, 

(A lesson hard) and make the Libbard steme 
Leave roaring, when in rage he for revenge did earne. 


Book I — Canto VI 

xxvr. And for to make his powre approved more, 

Wyld beastes in yron yokes he would Pompeii, 

The spotted Panther, and the tusked Bore, 

The Pardale swift, and the Tigre cniell. 

The Antelope, and Wolfe IxUli Tiers and fell ; 

And them constraine in cquall teme to draw. 

Such joy he had their stubhorno hari:s to quell. 

And sturdie courage tame with dreadfull aw, 

Tliat his beheast they feared as a tyraiis law. 

XXVII. His loving mother came upon a day 

Unto the woodes, to sec her little sonne; 

And chaunst unwarcs to meet him in the wav, 

After his sportes and cruell pastime donne ; 

When after him a Lyonesse did runne, 

That roaring all with rage did lowd requere 
Her children deare, whom he away had wonne: 

The Lyon whclpes she saw how he did beare, 

And lull in rugged armes wi thou ten childish fcarc. 

XXVIII. The fearefull Dame all quaked at the sight. 

And turning backe gan fast to fly awav ; 

Untill, with love revokt from vainc alTright, 

She hardly yet perswaded was to stay, 

And then to him these womanish words gan say: 

“ Ah Satyrane, my dcarling and my joy. 

For love of me leave off this dreadfull play; 

To dally thus with death is no fit toy; 

Go, find some other play-fcllowes, mine own sweet boy.” 

XXIX. In these and like dclightes of bloody game 
He trayned was, till ryper years he raught ; 

And there abode, whylst any beast of name 
Walkt in that for rest, whom he had not taught 
To feare his force: and then his courage haught 
Desyrd of forreine focinen to be knowne. 

And far abroad for strange adventures sought; 

In which his might was never overthrowne; 

But through al Faery lond his famous worth was blown. 

XXX. Yet evermore it was his maner faire, 

After long labours and adventures sjicnt, 

Unto those native woods for to repaire, 



The Faerie Qucene 

To see his syre and ofspring auncient. 

And now he thither came for like intent ; 

Where he unwares the fairest Una found, 

Straunge Lady in so straunge habiliment. 

Teaching the Satyres, which her sat around, 

Trew sacred lore, which from her sweet lips did redound. 

xxxr. He wondred at her wisedome hevenly rare, 

Whose like in womens witt he never knew; 

And, when her curteous deeds he did compare, 

Gan her admire, and her sad sorrowes rew, 

Blaming of Fortune, which such troubles threw, 

And joyd to make proofe of her cruelty 
On gentle Dame, so hurtlesse and so trew : 

Thenceforth he kept her goodly company, 

And leamd her discipline of faith and verity. 

XXXII. But she, all vowd unto the Redcrosse Knight, 

Ilis wandring perill closely did lament, 

Ne in this new acquaintaunce could delight; 

But her deare heart with anguish did torment. 

And all her witt in secret counsels spent. 

How to escape. At last in privy wise 
To Satyrane she shewed her intent ; 

Who, glad to gain such favour, gan devise. 

How with that pensive Maid he best might thence arise. 

XXXIII. So on a day, when Satyres all were gone 
To do their service to Sylvanus old. 

The gentle virgin, left behinde alone. 

He led away with corage stout and bold. 

Too late it was to Satyres to be told. 

Or ever hope recover her againe : 

In vaine he seekes that having cannot hold. 

So fast he carried her with carefull paine. 

That they the woods are past, and come now to the 

XXXIV. The better part now of the lingring day 

They traveild had, whenas they far espide 
A weary wight forwandring by the way ; 

And towards him they gan in haste to ride, 

To weete of newes that did abroad betide, 

Or tidings of her knight of the Redcrosse; 

8 ? 

Book I — Canto VI 

But he them spying gan to tume asidq 
For feare, as seemd, or for some feigned losse: 

More greedy they of newes fast towards him do crossc. 

XXXV. A silly man, in simple weeds forwome, 

And soild with dust of the long dried way ; 

His sandiiles were w'ith toilsome tra^'cll lornc, 

And face all tand with scorching sunny ray, 

As he had travcild many a summers day 
Through boyling sands of Arabic and Yncfe, 

And in his hand a Jacobs staflFe, to stay 
His weary limbs upon; and eke behind 
His scrip did hang, in which his needments he did bind. 

XXXVI. The knight, approching nigh, of him inquerd 
Tidings of warre, and of adventures new; 

But warres, nor new adventures, none he herd. 

Then Una gan to aske, if ought he knew, 

Or heard abroad of that her champion trew, 

That in his armour bare a croslet red? 

** Ay me ! Deare dame,*' (quoth he) “ well may I rew 
To tell the sad sight which mine eies have red ; 

These eies did sec that knight both living and eke ded." 

XXXVII. That cruell word her tender hart so thrild, 

That suddein cold did ronne through every vainc, 

And stony horrour all her senccs fild 

With dying fitt, that downe she fell for paine. 

The knight her lightly reared up againe. 

And comforted with curteous kind rclicfe: 

Then, wonne from death, she bad him tellcn plaine 
The further processe of her hidden griefe: 

The lesser pangs can beare who had endur'd the chief. 

XXXVIII. Then gan the Pilgrim thus: “ I chaunst this day, 

This fatall day that shall I ever rew, 

To see two knights, in travcll on my way, 

(A sory sight) arraung’d in battcill new. 

Both breathing vengeaunce, both of wTathfulI hew. 

My feareful ilesh did tremble at their strife, 

To see their blades so greedily imbrew, 

That, dronke with blood, yet thristed after life: 

What more? the Rcdcrosse knight was slain with 
Paynim knife." 

88 The Faerie Queene 

XXXIX. “ Ah ! Nearest Lord/* (quoth she) how might that bee, 
And he the stoutest knight that ever wonne? ’’ 

“ Ah! dearest dame,” (quoth hee) “ how might I see 
The thing that might not be, and yet was donne ? ” 

“ Where is,” (said Satyrane) “ that Paynims sonne, 
That him of life, and us of joy, hath refte? ” 

Not fai*away,” (quoth he) “ he hence doth wonne, 
Foreby a fountaine, where I late him lefte 
Washing his bloody wounds, that through the steel 
were cleft.” 

XL. Therewith the knight thence marched forth in hast, 
Whiles Una, with huge hcavincsse opprest. 

Could not for sorrow follow him so fast; 

And soone he came, as he the place had ghest, 
Whereas that Pagan proud him selfe did rest 
In secret shadow by a fountaine side : 

Even he it was, that earst would have supprest 
Faire Una; whom when Satyrane espide, 

With foule reprochfull words he boldly him defide. 

XLi. And said; “ Arise, thou cursed Miscreaunt, 

That hast with knightlesse guile, and trecherous train, 
Faire knighthood fowly shamed, and doest vaunt 
Tliat good knight of the Redcrosse to have slain: 

Arise, and with like treason now maintain 
The guilty wrong, or els thee guilty yield.” 

The Sarazin, this hearing, rose amain, 

And, catching up in hast his three-square shield 
And shining helmet, soone him buckled to the field. 

XLii. And, drawing nigh him, said; “ Ah! misborn Elfe, 

In evill houre thy foes thee hither sent 
Anothers wrongs to wreak upon thy selfe: 

Yet ill thou blamest me for having blent 
My name with guile and traiterous intent: 

That Redcrosse knight, perdie, I never slew; 

But had he beene where earst his armes were lent, 

Th’ enchaunter vaine his errour should not rew: 

But thou his errour shalt, I hope, now proven trew.” 

XLiii. Therewith they gan, both furious and fell, 

To thunder blowes, and fiersly to assaile 

Book I — Canto VI 89 

Each other, bent his enimy to quell, 

That with their force they perst both plate and maile, 
And made wide furrowes in their fleshes fraile, 

That it would pitty any living eie. 

Large floods of blood adowne their sides did raile, 

But floods of blood could not them satisfie: 

Both hongred after death; both chose*to wdn, or die, 

XLiv. So long they fight, and full revenge pursue, ^ 

That, fainting, each themselves to breathen lett. 

And, ofte refreshed, battell oft renue. 

As when two Bores, with rancling malice mett, 

Their gory sides fresh bleeding fiercely frett; 

Til breathlesse both themselves aside retire, 

Where foming wrath their cruell tuskes they whett, 

And trample th’ earth, the whiles they may respire, 

Then backe to fight againe, new breathed and entire, 

XLV, So fiersly, when these knights had breathed once, 

They gan to fight retourne, increiising more 
Their puissant force, and cruell rage attonce, 

With heaped strokes more hugely then before ; 

That with their drery w’ounds, and bloody gore, 

They both, deformed, scarsely could bee known. 

By this, sad Una fraught with anguish sore, 

Led with their noise which through the aire was thrown, 
Arriv’d wher they in erth their fruitles blood had sown. 

XLVI. Whom all so soone as that proud Sarazin 
Espidc, he gan revive the memory 
Of his Icud lusts, and late attempte d sin. 

And lefte the doubtfull Ixittell luistily, 

To catch her, newly offred to his eie; 

But Satyrane, witli strokes him turning, sUiid, 

And sternely bad him other businesse plic 
Then hunt the steps of pure unspotted Maid: 

Wherewith he al enrag’d these bitter speaches said. 

XLVii. “ O foolish faeries sonne ! what fury mad 

Hath thee incenst to hast thy dolefull fate? 

Were it not better I that l,ady had 
Then that thou hadst repented it too late.^ 

Most sencelesse man he, that himselfe doth hate. 

The Faerie Queene 

To lovg another: Lo! then, for thine ayd, 

Here take thy lovers token on thy pate.” 

So they to fight; the whiles the royall Mayd 
Fledd farre away, of that proud Paynim sore afrayd. 

But that false Pilgrim, which that leasing told. 

Being in tteed old Archimage, did stay 
In secret shadow all this to behold ; 

Ai^d much rejoyced in their bloody fray : 

But, when he saw the Damsell passe away. 

He left his stond, and her pursewd apace, 

In hope to bring her to her last decay. 

But for to tell her lamentable cace. 

And eke this battels end, will need another place. 

Book I — Canto VII 



The Redcrosse knight is captive made 
By Tyaiint proud npprest: 

Prince Arthure meets with Una great- 
ly with those newes distrest. 

I. What man so wise, what earthly witt so ware, 

As to discry the crafty cunning traine, 

By which deceipt doth maske in visour faire, 

And cast her cou lours, died deepe in graine, 

To sceme like truth, whose shape she well can fainc, 
And fitting gestures to her purpose frame, 

The guiltlcsse man with guile to entertaine? 

Great maistresse of her art was that false I )ame, 

The false Duessa, cloked with Fidcssacs name. 

II. Who when, returning from the drery Night, 

She fownd not in that perilous hous of l^ryde, 

Where she had left the noble Redcrosse knight, 

Her hoped pray, she would no longer byde. 

But forth she went to scckc him far and wide. 

Ere long she fownd, whereas he wearie sate 

To reste him selfe foreby a fountaine syde. 

Disarmed all of yron-coted Plate ; 

And by his side his steed the griissy forage ate. 

III. Hee feedcs upon the cooling shade, and bayes 
His sweatie forehead in the breathing wynd, 

Which through the trembling leaves full gently playes, 
W'herein the chearefull birds of sundry kynd 
Doe chaunt sweet musick to delight his mynd. 

The witch approching gan him fayrely greet, 

And with rcproch of carclesnes unkynd 
Upbrayd, for leaving her in place unmeet. 

With fowle words tempring faire, soure gall with hony 

IV. Unkindnesse past, they gan of solace treat, 

And bathe in pleasaunce of the joyous shade, 


The Faerie Queene 

Which shielded them against the boyling heat, 

And with greene boughes decking a gloomy glade, 
About the fountaine like a girlond made ; 

Whose bubbling wave did ever freshly well, 

Ne ever would through fervent summer fade: 

The sacred Nymph, which therein wont to dwell. 
Was out of^ianes favor, as it then befell. 

V. The oause was this : one day, when Phoebe fayre 
With all her band was following the chace. 

This nymph, quite tyr’d with heat of scorching ayrc, 
Salt downc to rest in middest of the race : 

The goddesse wroth gan fowly her disgrace, 

And badd the waters, which from her did flow. 

Be such as she her selfe was then in place. 
Thenceforth her waters wexed dull and slow, 

And all that drinke thereof do faint and feeble grow. 

VI. Hereof this gentle knight unweeting was ; 

And lying downe upon the sandie grade, 

Dronke of the streame, as cleare as christall glas: 
Eftsoones his manly forces gan to fayle, 

And mightie strong was turnd to feeble fraylc. 

His chaunged powres at first them selves not felt; 

Till cnidled cold his corage gan assayle, 

And cheareful blood in fayntnes chill did melt, 

Which like a fever fit through all his bodie swelt 

VII. Yet goodly court he made still to his Dame, 

Pourd out in loosnesse on the grassy growncl. 

Both careless of his health, and of his fame ; 

Till at the last he heard a drcadfull sownd. 

Which through the wood loud hellowdng did rcbownd. 
That all the earth for terror seemd to shake. 

And trees did tremble. Th* Elfe, therewith astownd. 
Upstarted lightly from his looser make. 

And his unready weapons gan in hand to take. 

VIII. But ere he could his armour on him dight, 

Or gett his shield, his monstrous enimy 
With sturdie steps came stalking in his sight, 

An hideous Geaunt, horrible and hye, 

That with his tallnesse seemd to threat the skye; 


Book 1 — Canto VII 

The ground eke groned under him for drcid : 

Kis living like saw never living eye, 

Ne durst behold: his stature did exceed 
The hight of three the tallest sonncs of mortall seed. 

IX. The greatest Earth his uncouth mother was, 

And blustring i^lolus his boasted syrc; • 

Who w'ith his breath, which through the world dotli pas, 
Her hollow womb did secretly in^^pyre, 

And fild her hidden caves with storm ie yre. 

That she conceiv'd; and trebling the dew' time 
In which the wombes of women doe cx|)yrc, 

Brought forth this monstrous masse of earthly slyme, 
Puft up with emptie wynd, and fild with sinful! cryme. 

X. So growen great, through arrogant delight 
Of th' high descent whereof he was yhorne. 

And through presumption of his maU hlcsse might, 

All other powres and knighthood he did scorne. 

Such now he marcheth to this man forlorne, 

And left to losse; his stalking steps are sUiydc 
Upon a snaggy Oke, which he had tornc 
Out of his mothers bowelles, and it made 
His mortall mace, wherewith his focmen he dismayde. 

XI. That, when the knight he spyde, he gan ad\auncc 
With huge force and insupportable mayne, 

And towardes him with dreadfull fury praunce; 

Who haplesse, and eke hopelcsse, all in vaine 
Did to him pace sad batUiilc to darrayne, 

Disarmd, disgraste, and inwardly dismayde; 

And eke so faint in every joynt and vayne, 

Through that fraile founUiin which him feeble made, 
That scarsely could he week! his bootlessc single blade. 

XII. The Gcaunt strooke so maynly mercilesse, 

That could have overthrowne a stony towre ; 

And, were not hevenly grace that did him blcssc, 

He had beene pouldred all as thin as flowre: 

But he was wary of that deadly stowre, 

And lightly lept from underneath the blow: 

Yet so exceeding was the villeins powre, 

That with the winde it did him overthrow, 

And all his sences stound that still he lay full low. 

94 The Faerie Queene 

XIII. As when that divelish yron Engin, wrought 
In deepest Hell, and framd by Furies skill, 

With windy Nitre and quick Sulphur fraught. 

And ramd with bollet rownd, ordaind to kill, 
Conceiveth fyre, the heavens it doth fill 

With thundring noyse, and all the ayre doth choke. 
That none can breath, nor see, nor heare at will. 
Through smouldry cloud of duskish stincking smoke; 
Th^ th’ only breath him daunts, who hath escapt the 

XIV. So daunted when the Geaunt saw the knight. 

His heavie hand he heaved up on hye, 

And him to dust thought to have battred quight. 
Untill Duessa loud to him gan crye, 

“ O great Orgoglio ! greatest under skye, 

O! hold thy mortall hand for Ladies sake; 

Hold for my sake, and doe him not to dye, 

But vanquisht thine etemall bondslave make. 

And me, thy worthy meed, unto thy Leman take.*^ 

XV. He hearkned, and did stay from further harmes, 

To gayne so goodly guerdon as she spake : 

So willingly she came into his armes, 

Who her as willingly to grace did take, 

And was possessed of his newfound make. 

Then up he tooke the slombred sencelesse corse. 

And, ere he could out of his swowne awake. 

Him to his castle brought with hastie forse. 

And in a Dongeon deepe him threw without remorse. 

XVI. From that day forth Duessa was his dcare. 

And highly honoured in his haughtie eye ; 

He gave her gold and purple pall to weare. 

And triple crowne set on her head full hye. 

And her endowd with royall majestye. 

Then, for to make her dreaded more of men, 

And peoples hartes with awfull terror tye, 

A monstrous beast ybredd in filthy fen 

He chose, which he had kept long time in darksom den. 

XVII. Such one it was, as that renowmed Snake 
Which great Alcides in Stremona slew. 

Long fostred in the filth of Lema lake: 

Book I — Canto VII 95 

Whose many heades, out budding ever neyr. 

Did breed him endlesse labor to subdew. 

But this same Monster much more ugly was, 

For seven great heads out of his body grew, 

An yron brest, and back of scaly bras. 

And all embrewd in blood his eyes did shine as glas. 

XVIII. His tayle was stretched out in wondrous length, 

That to the hous of hevenly gods it raiight: ^ 

And with extorted powre, and borrow'd strength, 

The everburning lamps from thence it braught, 

And prowdly threw to ground, as things of naught; 

And underneath his filthy feet did tread 

The sacred thinges, and holy heastes forctaiight. 

Upon this dreadfull Beast with sevenfold head 
He sett the false Duessa, for more aw and dread. 

XIX. The wofull Dwarfe, which saw his maisters fall 
Whiles he had keeping of his grasing steed, 

And valiant knight become a caytive thrall, 

When all was past, tooke up his forlorne weed; 

His mightie Armour, missing most at need; 

His silver shield, now idle, maisterlcsse; 

His poynant speare that many made to bleed, 

The rueful moniments of heavinesse; 

And with them all departes to tell his great distressc. 

XX. He had not travaild long, when on the way 
He wofull Lady, wofull Una, met, 

Fast flying from that Paynims greedy pray, 

Whilest Satyrane him from pursuit did let: 

Who when her eyes she on the Dwarf had set, 

And saw the signes that deadly tydings spake, 

She fell to ground for sorrowfull regret. 

And lively breath her sad brest did forsake; 

Yet might her pitteous hart be seene to pant and quake. 

XXI. The messenger of so unhappie newes 

Would faine have dyde: dead was his liart within, 

Yet outwardly some little comfort shewes. 

At last, recovering hart, he does begin 
To rubb her temples, and to chaufe her chin. 

And everie tender part does tosse and turne: 


The Faerie Queene 

So hard^ he the flitted life does win 
Unto her native prison to retoume; 

Then gins her grieved ghost thus to lament and moume : 

XXII. “ Ye dreary instruments of dolefull sight. 

That doe this deadly spectacle behold, 

Why doe lenger feed on loathed light. 

Or liking find to gaze on earthly mould, 

Sith cruell fates the carefull threds unfould, 

The which my life and love together tyde ? 

Now let the stony dart of sencelesse cold 
Perce to my hart, and pas through everie side, 

And let etemall night so sad sight fro me hyde. 

XXIII. “ O lightsome day! the lampe of highest Jove, 

First made by him mens wand ring wayes to guyde, 
When darknesse he in deepest dongeon drove, 
Henceforth thy hated face for ever hyde, 

And shut up heavens windowes shyning wyde ; 

For earthly sight can nought but sorrow breed. 

And late repentance which shall long abyde : 

Mine eyes no more on vanitie shall feed. 

But seeled up with death shall have their deadly meed.** 

XXIV. Then downe againe she fell unto the ground, 

But he her quickly reared up againe: 

Thrise did she sinke adowne in deadly swownd. 

And thrise he her reviv’d with busie paine. 

At last when life recover’d had the raine, 

And over-wrestled his strong enimy, 

With foltring tong, and trembling everie vaine, 

** Tell on,” (quoth she) “ the wofull Tragedy, 

The which these reliques sad present unto mine eye. 

XXV. “ Tempestuous fortune hath spent all her spight, 

And thrilling sorrow throwne his utmost dart: 

Thy sad tong cannot tell more heavy plight 
Tlien that I fcele, and harbour in mine hart: 

Who hath endur’d the whole can bcare ech part. 

If death it be, it is not the first wound 

That launched hath my brest with bleeding smart. 

Begin, and end the bitter balefull stound; 

If lesse then that I feare, more favour I have found.’* 

Book I — Canto VII 97 

XXVI. Then gan the Dwarfe the whole discoui;^ declare; 

The subtile traines of Archimago old ; 

The wanton loves of false Fidessa fay re, 

Bought with the blood of vanqiiisht Paynim bold; 

The wretched pay re transformd to treen mould ; 

The house of Pr\'de, and perillcs round about; 

The combat which he with Sansjoy c/id hould; 

The lucklesse conflict with the Gyaunt stout, 

Wherein captiv'd, of life or death he stood jn doubt. 

XXVII. She heard with patience all unto the end, 

And strove to maister sorrowfull assay. 

Which greater grew the more she did contend, 

And almost rent her tender hart in tway ; 

And love fresh coles unto her Are did lay ; 

For greater love, the greater is the losse. 

Was never Lady loved dearer day 

Then she did love the knight of the Rcdcrosse, 

For whose dearc sake so many troubles her did tossc. 

XXVIII. At last when fervent sorrow slaked was, 

She up arose, resolving him to find 
Alive or dead; and forward forth doth pas. 

All as the Dwarfe the way to her assynd; 

And evermore, in constant carcfiill mind, 

She fedd her wound with fresh renewed lialc. 

Long tost with stormes, and bet with bitter wind, 

High over hills, and lowe adowne the dale. 

She wandred many a wood, and incasurd many a vale. 

XXIX. At last she chaunced by good hap to meet 

A goodly knight, faire marching by the way, 

Together with his Squyre, arayed meet: 

His glitterand armour shined far awav, 

Like glauncing light of Phoebus brightest ray; 

From top to toe no place appeared bare. 

That deadly dint of steele endanger may. 

Athwart his brest a bauldrick brave he ware, 

That shind, like twinkling stars, with stones most 
pretious rare. 

XXX. And in the midst thereof one pretious stone 

Of wondrous worth, and eke of wondrous mights, 
Shapt like a Ladies head, exceeding shone, 


The Faerie Queene 

Like Jlesperus emongst the lesser lights, 

And strove for to amaze the weaker sights: 

Thereby his mortall blade full comely hong 
In yvory sheath, ycarv’d with curious slights, 

Whose hilts were burnisht gold, and handle strong 
Of mother perle ; and buckled with a golden tong. 

XXXI. His haughtie Helmet, horrid all with gold, 

Upth glorious brightnesse and great terrour bredd: 

For all the crest a Dragon did enfold 

With greedie pawes, and over all did spredd 

His golden winges : his dreadfull hideous hedd. 

Close couched on the bever, seemd to throw 
From flaming mouth bright sparckles fiery redd. 

That suddeine horrour to faint hartes did show; 

And scaly tayle was stretcht adowne his back full low. 

XXXII. Upon the top of all his loftie crest, 

A bounch of heares discoloured diversly, 

With sprincled pearle and gold full richly drest, 

Did shake, and seemd to daunce for jollity, 

Like to an almond tree ymounted hye 
On top of greene Sclinis all alone. 

With blossoms brave bedecked daintily; 

Whose tender locks do tremble every one 
At everie little breath that under heaven is blowne. 

XXXIII. His warlike shield all closely cover’d was, 

Ne might of mortall eye be ever scene ; 

Not made of stcele, nor of enduring bras, 

Such earthly mettals soon consumed beene, 

Diit all of Diamond perfect pure and cleene 
It framed was, one massy entire mould, 

Hewen out of Adamant rocke with engines keene. 
That point of speare it never percen could, 

Ne dint of direfull sword divide the substance would. 

xxxiv. The same to wight he never wont disclose, 

But whenas monsters huge he would dismay, 

Or daunt unequall armies of his foes, 

Or when the flying heavens he would affray; 

For so exceeding shone his glistring ray. 

That Phoebus golden face it did attaint, 


Book I — Canto VII 

As when a cloud his beames doth over-lay ; 

And silver Cynthia wexed pale and fayiA, 

As when her face is staynd w ith magicke arts constraint. 

XXXV. No magicke arts hereof had any might, 

Nor bloody wordcs of bold Enchaunters call ; 

But all that was not such as scemd irt sight 
Before that shield did fade, and suddeine fall: 

And when him list the raskall routes appall^ 

Men into stones therewith he could transme^, 

And stones to dust, and dust to nought at all ; 

And, when him list the prouder lookes subdew, 

He would them gazing blind, or turne to otlver hew. 

XXXVI. Ne let it seeme that credence tins excccdes; 

For he that made the same was knowne right well 
To have done much more admirai)lc deedes. 

It Merlin was, which whylome did excell 
All living wightes in might of magicke spell : 

Both shield and sword, and armour all la; wrought 
For this young Prince, when first to armes he fell; 

But, when he dyde, the Faery Queene it brought 
To Faerie lond, where yet it may be scene, if sought: 

xxxvii. A gentle youth, his <learely loved Squire, 

His speare of heben wood l>chind him bare. 

Whose harmeful head, thrise heated in the fire, 

Had riven many a brest with pikehead square: 

A goodly person, and could menage faire 
His stubborne steed with curbcfl canon bitt. 

Who under him did trample as the aire. 

And chauft that any on his barke should sitt: 

The yron rowels into frothy fome he bitt. 

xxxvili. WTienas this knight nigh to the Lady drew. 

With lovely court he gan her entertaine; 

But, when he heard her answers loth, he knew 
Some secret sorrow did her heart distraine; 

Which to allay, and calme her storming painc, 

Faire feeling words he wisely gan display. 

And for her humor fitting purpose faine. 

To tempt the cause it selfe for to l^ewray, 

Wherewith enmovd, these bleeding words she gan to say. 


The Faerie Queene 

XXXIX. “ What worlds delight, or joy of living speach. 

Can hart, so plungd in sea of sorrowes deep, 

And heaped with so huge misfortunes, reach? 

The carefull cold beginneth for to creep. 

And in my heart his yron arrow steep, 

Soone as I thinke upon my bitter bale. 

Such helplcsse harmes yts better hidden keep, 

Then rip up griefe where it may not availe : 

My last left comfort is my woes to weepe and waile.*' 

XL. “ Ah Lady deare,’’ quoth then the gentle knight, 

“ Well may I ween your griefe is wondrous great; 

For wondrous great griefe groneth in my spright. 

Whiles thus I hcare you of your sorrowes treat. 

But, woefull Lady, let me you intrete, 

For to unfold the anguish of your hart : 

Mishaps are maistred by advice discrete, 

And counsell mitigates the greatest smart: 

Found never help who never would his hurts impart.” 

XLi, 0 but,** (quoth she) great greife will not be tould, 
And can more easily be thought then said.” 

** Right so,” (quoth he) but he that never would 
Could never: will to might gives greatest aid.” 

But griefe,” (quoth she) “ does greater grow displaid. 

If then it find not helpe, and breeds despaire.” 

“ Despaire breeds not,” (quoth he) “ where faith is staid.” 
“ No faith so fast,” (quoth she) but flesh does paire.” 

“ Flesh may empaire,” (quoth he) “ but reason can repaire.” 

XLii. His goodly reason, and well guided speach. 

So deepe did settle in her gracious thought. 

That her perswaded to disclose the breach 
Which love and fortune in her heart had wrought ; 

And said; “ Faire Sir, I hope good hap hath brought 
You to inquere the secrets of my griefe. 

Or that your wisedome will direct my thought. 

Or that your prowesse can me yield relicfe: 

Then, heare the story sad, which I shall tell you briefe. 

XLiii. ” The forlorne Maiden, whom your eies have scene 
The laughing stocke of fortunes mockeries. 

Am th’ onely daughter of a King and Queene, 


Book I — Canto VII 

Whose parents deare, whiles equal destinies 
Did ronne about, and their felicities 
The favourable heavens did not envy, 

Did spred their rule through all the territories, 

Which Phison and Euphrates floweth bv. 

And Gehons golden w'aves doe wash continunlh' : 

XLiv. “ Till that their cruell rinsed enemy, 

An huge great Dragon, horrible in sight, 

Bred in the loathly lakes of Tartar^-, 

With murdrous ravine, and devmiring might, 

Their kingdome spoild, and cfiuntrcy wasted cjiiight: 
Themselves, for feare into his jawes to fall, 

He forst to castle strong to take their fliglit; 

Where, fast embard in mighty hrasen wall, 

He has them now fowr years besieged to make them thrall 

XLV. “ Full many knights, adventurous and stout. 

Have enterpriz’d that Monster to siilxlcw: 

From every coast that heaven walks about 
Have thither come the noble Martial crew. 

That famous harde atchievements still pursew , 

Yet never any could that girlond win, 

But all still shronke, and still he greater grew: 

All they, for want of faith, or guilt of sin, 

The pitteous pray of his Tiers cruelty have bin. 

XLVi. “ At last, yled with far reported jir.iisc, 

Which flying fame throughout the world had spred, 

Of doughty knights, whom Faery land did raise, 

That noble order hight of maidcniicd, 

Forthwith to court of Gloriane I sped, 

Of Gloriane, great Quccne of glory bright, 

Whose kingdomes seat (deopolis is red; 

There to oliUiine some such redoubted knight. 

That Parents deare from tyrants powre deliver might. 

XLVii. ‘‘ Vt was my chaunce (my chaunce was fairc and good) 
There for to find a fresh unproved knight; 

Whose manly hands imbrewd in guilty blood 
Had never beene, ne ever by his might 
Had thrownc to ground the unregarded right: 

Yet of his prowesse proofe he since hath made 


The Faerie Queene 

(I witnes am) in many a cruell fight; 

The gronhig ghosts of many one dismaide 
Have felt the bitter dint of his avenging blade. 

XLViii. An ye, the forlorne reliques of his powre, 

His biting sword, and his devouring speare, 

Which have endured many a dreadful stowre, 

Can speake nis prowesse that did earst you beare, 

And well could rule; now he hath left you heare 
To b^the record of his ruefull losse. 

And of my dolefull disaventurous deare. 

O ! hcavie record of the good Redcrosse, 

Where have yee left your lord that could so well you 
tosse ? 

XLix. “ Well hoped I, and faire beginnings had, 

That he my captive langour should redeemc : 

Till, all unweeting, an Enchaunter bad 
His sence abused, and made him to misdeeme 
My loyalty, not such as it did seeme. 

That rather death desire then such despight. 

Be judge, ye heavens, that all things right esteeme, 

How I him lov’d, and love with all my might. 

So thought I eke of him, and think I thought aright. 

L. “ Thenceforth me desolate he quite forsooke. 

To wander where wilde fortune would me lead. 

And other bywaies he himselfe betooke. 

Where never foote of living wight did tread, 

That brought not backe the balefull body dead: 

In which him chaunced false Duessa meete. 

Mine onely foe, mine onely deadly dread; 

Who with her witchcraft, and misseeming sweete, 
Inveigled him to follow her desires unmeete. 

LI. “ At last, by subtile sleights she him betraid 
Unto his foe, a Gyaunt huge and tall; 

Who him disarmed, dissolute, dismaid, 

Unwares surprised, and with mighty mall 
The monster mercilesse him made to fall. 

Whose fall did never foe before behold : 

And now in darkesome dungeon, wretched thrall, 
Remedilesse for aie he doth him hold. 

This is my cause of griefe, more great then may be told.” 

Book I — Canto VII 


Lii. Ere she had ended all she gan to faint: 

But he her comforted, and faire bespake* 

“ Certes, Madame, ye have great cause of plaint; 

That stoutest heart, I weenc, could cause to quake: 

But be of cheare, and comfort to you take ; 

For till I have acquitt your captive knight, 

Assure your selfe I will you not forsake.” 

His chearefull words reviv’d her chearclesse spright, 

So forth they went, the Dwarfe tliem guidii^ ever right. 


The Faerie Queene 


FaireVirgin, to redeeme her deare, 

Brings Arthure to the fight: 

Who slayes the Gyaunt, wounds the beast, 

% And strips Duessa quight. 

I. Ay me ! how many perils doe enfold 
The righteous man, to make h^m daily fall, 

Were not that heavenly grace doth him uphold, 

And stedfast truth acquite him out of all. 

Her love is firme, her care continuall. 

So oft as he, through his own foolish pride 
Or weakness, is to sinfull bands made thrall ; 

Els should this Redcrosse knight in bands have dyde. 
For whose deliverance she this Prince doth thither guyd. 

II. They sadly travcild thus, untill they came 
Nigh to a castle builded strong and hye: 
llien cryde tlie Dwarfe, “ Lo 1 yonder is the same. 

In which my Lord, my liege, doth lucklesse ly 
Thrall to that Gyaunts hatefull tyranny: 

Tlierefore, deare Sir, your mightie powres assay.” 

The noble knight alighted by and by 
From loftie steed, and badd the Ladie stay, 

To see what end of fight should him befall that day. 

ni. So with his Squire, th* admirer of his might, 

He marched forth towardes that castle wall. 

Whose gates he fownd fast shutt, ne living wight 
To warde the same, nor answere commers call. 

Then tooke that Squire an home of bugle small. 

Which hong adowne his side in twisted gold 
And tasscUes gay. Wyde wonders over all 
Of that same homes great virtues weren told. 

Which had approved bene in uses manifold. 

IV. Was never wight that heard that shrilling sownd, 

But trembling feare did feel in every vaine : 

Three miles it might be easy heard arownd, 

Book I — Canto VIII 105 

And Ecchoes three aunswer’d it selfe a^aine: 

No false enchauntment, nor decciptfull traine, 

Might once abide the terror of that blast, 

But presently was void and wholly vaine: 

No gate so strong, no locke so hrme and fast, 

But with that percing noise flew' open quite, or brost. 

V. The same before the Geaunts gate he l>lcw', 

That all the castle quaked from the grownd, 

And every dore of freewill open flew. ^ 

The Gyaunt selfe, dismaied with that sow'nd, 

Where he with his Duessa dalliaunce fownd, 

In hast came rushing forth from inner bowre, 

With staring countenance sterne, os one astownd, 

And staggering steps, to weet what suddein stowrc 
Had wrought that horror strange, and dar’d his dreaded 


VI. And after him the proud Duessa came, 

High mounted on her many headed bcjisl, 

And every head with fyrie tongue did flame, 

And every head w’as crowned on his creast. 

And bloody mouthed with late iruell feast. 

That when the knight beheld, his inightie shild 
Upon his manly arnie he soonc addrest, 

And at him fiersly flew, with corage flld, 

And egcr greedinc.ssc through every member thrild. 

VII. Therewith the Gyant buckled him to fight, 

Inflamd with scorncfull w rath and Ingh disdainc. 

And lifting up his dreadfull (flub on hight, 

All armd with ragged snub})es and knottie graine, 

Him thought at first enccainter to have slaine. 

But wise and wary was tliat noble Pere; 

And, lightly leaping from so monstrous maine. 

Did fayre avoide the violence him nerc: 

It booted nought to think(.* such thundcrb.flts to beare. 

VIII. Nc shame he thought to sh<jnne so hideous might: 

The ydle stroke, enforcing furious way, 

Missing the marke of his misaymed sight. 

Did fall to ground, and with his heavy sway 
So deepely dinted in the driven clay, 

That three yardes deepe a furrow up did throw. 

io6 The Faerie Queene 

The sa<J earth, wounded with so sore assay, 

Did grone full grievous underneath the blow, 

And trembling with strange feare did like an erthquake 

IX. As when almightie Jove, in wrathfull mood, 

To wreakS the guilt of mortall sins is bent, 

Hurles forth his thundring dart with deadly food 
Enfold in flames, and smouldring dreriment. 

Through riven cloudes and molten firmament; 

The fiers threeforked engin, making way, 

Both loftie towres and highest trees hath rent, 

And all that might his angry passage stay; 

And, shooting in the earth, castes up a mount of clay. 

X. His boystrous club, so buried in the growmd. 

He could not rearen up againe so light. 

But that the Knight him at advantage fownd ; 

And, whiles he strove his combred clubbe to quight 
Out of the earth, with blade all burning bright 
He smott off his left arme, which like a block 
Did fall to ground, depriv’d of native might: 

Large streames of blood out of the truncked stock 
Forth gushed, like fresh water streame from riven rocke. 

XI. Dismayed with so desperate deadly wound. 

And eke impatient of unwonted payne, 

He loudly brayd with beastly yelling sownd, 

That all the fieldes rebellowed againe. 

As great a noyse, as when in Cymbrian plaine 
An heard of Bulles, whom kindly rage doth sting. 

Doe for the milky mothers want complaine. 

And fill the fieldes with troublous bellowing: 

The neighbor woods arownd with hollow murmur ring. 

XII. That when his deare Duessa heard, and saw 
The evil stownd that daungerd her estate, 

Unto his aide she hastily did draw 

Her dreadfull beast; who, swolne with blood of late, 
Came ramping forth with proud presumpteous gate. 
And threatned all his heades like flamin^brandes. 

But him the Squire made quickly to retrate, 
Encountring fiers with single sword in hand ; 

And twixt him and his Lord did like a bulwarkc stand. 

Book I — Canto VIII lo; 

XIII. The proud Duessa, full of wrathful! spight, 

And fiers disdaine to be aiTronUd so, 

Enforst her purple beast with all her might. 

That stop out of the way to overthroe, 

Scorning the let of so uncquall foe : 

But natheniore would that coriigeoijp swayne 
To her yeeld passage gainst his l^rd to goc. 

But with outrageous strokes did him restraine, 

And witli his body bard tlie way atwixt them twaine. 

XIV. Then tooke the angrie \Yitch h r golden cup. 

Which still she bore, replete with inagick artes; 

Death and despeyre did many thereof sup, 

And secret poyson through their inner partes, 

Th’ cternall bale of heavie wounded harts: 

Which, after charmes and some enchauntments said. 
She lightly sprinkled on his weaker partes: 

Therewith his sturdie conige soon was (juayd, 

And all his sences were with suddein dread dismayd, 

XV. So downe he fell before the criiell Ixjjist, 

Who on his neck his bloody clawes did seize, 

That life nigh crusht out of his panting brest; 

No pKJwre he had to stirre, nor will to rizc. 

That when the carcfull knight gan well avise, 

He lightly left the foe with whom he fought, 

And to the beast gan turne his enterprise; 

For wondrous anguish in his hart it wrought. 

To see his loved Squyre into such thraldom brought: 

XVI. And, high advauncing his blood-thirstie blade, 

Stroke one of those deformed hcades so sore, 

That of his puissaunce proud ensamplc made; 

His monstrous scaljx; downe to his teeth it tore. 

And that mLsformed shape misshajxid more. 

A sea of blood gusht from the gaping wownd. 

That her gay garments sUiynd with filthy gore. 

And overflowed all the field arownd. 

That over shoes in blood he waded on the grownd. 

XVII. Thereat he rored for exceeding paine, 

That to have heard great horror would have bred ; 
And scourging th^ emptic ayre with his long traync, 

io8 The Faerie Queene 

Through igreat impatience of his grieved hed, 

Hls gorgeous ryder from her loftie sted 

Would have cast downe, and trodd in durty myre, 

Had not the Gyaunt soone her succoured ; 

Who, all enrag’d with smart and frantick yrc, 

Came hurtling in full fiers, and forst the knight retyre, 

xviii. The force, which wont in two to be disperst. 

In one alone left hand he now unites. 

Which is through rage more strong then both were erst 
With which his hideous, club aloft he ditcs, 

And at his foe with furious rigor smites, 

That strongest Oake might seemc to overthrow. 

The stroke upon his shield so heavie lites, 

That to the ground it doubleth him full low: 

What mortall wight could ever beare so monstrous blow 

XIX. And in his fall his shield, that covered was. 

Did loose his vclc by chan nee, and open flew ; 

The light whereof, that hevens light did pas, 

Such blazing brightnesse through the ayer tlirew, 

That eye mote not the same endure to vcw. 

Which when the Gyaunt spyde with staring eye. 

He downe let fall his arme, and soft withdrew 

His weapon huge, that heaved was on hye 

For to have slain the man, that on the ground did lye. 

XX. And eke the fruitfull-headed l:)east, amazd 
At flashing beames of that sunshiny shield, 

Became stark blind, .and all his sciices dazd. 

That downe he tumbled on the durtie field, 

And seemd himselfe as conquered to yield. 

Whom when his maistresse proud perceiv'd to fall. 
Whiles yet his feeble feet for faintnesse reeld, 

Unto the Gyaunt lowdly she gan call; 

“ O! helpe, Orgoglio; helpe! or els we perish all.” 

XXI. At her so pittcous cry was much amoov’d 

Her champion stout; and for to ayde his frend, 

Againe his wonted angry weapon proov’d,' 

But all in vaine, for he has redd his end 
In that bright shield, and all their forces spend 
Them selves in vaine : for, since that glauncing sight, 


Book I — Canto VIII 

He hath no powre to hurt, nor to defeiK]. 

As where th’ Almighties lightning brorul does light, 

It dimmes the dazed eyen, and daunts thesencesquight. 

XXII. Whom when the Prince, to batteill new addrest 
And threatning high his dreadfull str^)ke, did see, 

His sparkling blade about his head he blest, 

And smote off quite his right leg by the knee, 

That downe he tombled; as an aged tree, > 

High growing on the top of rocky chft, 

\\ hose hartstrings with keene st(‘elc nigh hcwen be; 
The mightie trunck, halfc rent with r.igged nft, 

Doth roll adowne tlie rocks, and fall witli fearefiill ilrift. 

XXIII. Or as a ('astle, reared high and round, 

By subtile engins and malitious slight 
Is undermined from the lowest ground, 

And her foundation forst, and feel^led quight. 

At last downe falles: and with her heafnd hight 
Her hastie mine does more hea\ le make. 

And yields it selfe unto the victoiirs might; 

Such was this Oyaunts fall, that seernd to shake 
The stedfast globe of earlli, as it for fearc did quake. 

XXIV. The knight, then lightly leaping to the prav, 

With mortall sleele him sinot agaiia* so sure. 

That headlesse his unw’e]<iy bodic lav, 

All wallowd in his owne fowle bloody gore*, 

Which flowed from his wouikIs m wondrous store. 

But, soone as breath out of his brest did j>as, 

'rhat huge great body, which the (iyaiint bore, 

Was vanisht quite; and of that monslnjiis 
Was nothing left, but like an einj)tie blader was. 

XXV. Whose grievous fall when false Duessa sm\ dc. 

Her golden cup she cast unto the ground. 

And crowned mitre rudely threw asyde: 

Such percing griefe her .stiibborne hart did wound, 
That she could not endure that dolefull stound 
But feaving all behind her fled awa> : 

The light-foot Squyre her quickly turnd around, 

And, by hard meanes enforcing her to stay, 

So brought unto his Lord as his deserved pray. 


I lO 

The Faerie Queene 

XXVI. The roiatt Virgin which beheld from farre, 

In pensive plight and sad perplexitie, 

The whole atchievement of this doubtfull warre. 

Came running fast to greet his victorie, 

With sober gladnesse and myld modestie; 

And with sweet joyous cheare him thus bespake: 

“ Fayre braunch of noblesse, flowre of chevalrie, 

That with your worth the world amazed make, 

Hoa^ shall I quite the paynes ye suffer for my sake ? 

XXVII. “ And you, fresh budd. of vertue springing fast. 

Whom these sad eyes saw nigh unto deaths dore. 

What hath poore Virgin for such perill past 
Wherewith you to reward ? Accept therefore 
My simple selfe, and service evermore : 

And he that high does sit, and all things see 
With equall eye, their merites to restore, 

Behold what ye this day have done for mee, 

And what I cannot quite requite with usuree. 

XXVIII. ** But sith the heavens, and your faire handeling, 

Have made you master of the field this day, 

Your fortune maister eke with governing, 

And, well begonne, end all so well, I pray ! 

Ne let that wicked woman scape away; 

For she it is, that did my Lord bethrall. 

My dearest Lord, and deef>e in dongeon lay. 

Where he his better dayes hath wasted all : 

O heare, how piteous he to you for ayd does call 1 ** 

XXIX. Forthwith he gave in charge unto his Squyre, 

That scarlot whore to keepen carefully ; 

Whyles he himselfe with greedie great des}Te 
Into the Castle entred forcibly. 

Where living creature none he did espye. 

Then gan he lowdly through the house to call, 

But no man car’d to answere to his crye : 

There raignd a solemne silence over all : 

Nor voice was heard, nor wight was scene in bowre or hall. 

XXX. At last, with creeping crooked pace forth came 
An old old man, with beard as white as snow. 

That on a staffe his feeble steps did frame. 

1 1 i 

Book I — Canto VIII 

And guyde his wearie gate both too ar^i fro. 

For his eye sight him fayled long ygo ; 

And on his arme a bounch of keycs he bore. 

The which unused rust did overgrow: 

Those were the keyes of every inner dore ; 

But he could not them use, but kept Jhem still in store. 

XXXI. But very' uncouth sight was to behold. 

How he did fashion his untoward pace; 

For as he forward moovd his footing old, 

So backward still was turnd his wrincled face: 

Unlike to mc*n, w ho ever*, as they trace, 

Both feet and face one way are wont to K\ul. 

This was the auncient keeper of that place, 

And foster father of the Clyaunt dead ; 

His name Ignaro did his nature right aread. 

XXXII. His reverend heares and holy gravitee 

The knight much honord, as l>esecmcd well ; 

And gently askt, where all the people bee, 

Which in that stately building wont to dwell: 

Who answerd him full soft, he could uoi tclL 
Again he askt, where that same knight was layd, 
Whom great Orgoglio with his puissaunce fell 
Had made his caytive thrall: ag.iine he sayde, 

He could not tell ; nc ever other answere made. 

XXXIII. Then asked he, which way he in might pas? 

He could not tell, againe he answered. 

Thereat the courteous knight displeased was, 

And said; “ Old syre, it seemes thou hast not red 
How ill it sits with that same silver hed. 

In vaine to mocke, or mockt in vainc to bee: 

But if thou be, as thou art pourtrahed 
With natures pen, in ages grave degree, 

Aread in graver wise what 1 demaund of thee. 

XXXIV. His answere likewise was, he could not tell : 

Whose sencelcsse spcach, and doted ignorance, 
W’henas the noble Prince had marked well. 

He ghest his nature by his countenance. 

And calmd his wrath with goodly temperance. 

Then, to him stepping, from his arme did reach 
Those keyes, and made himselfe free enterance. 

X I 2 

The Faerie Queene 

Each dore he opened without any breach, 

Ihere was no barre to stop, nor foe him to empeach. 

XXXV. There all within full rich arayd he found, 

W ith royall arras, and resplendent gold, 

And did with store of every thing abound. 

That greatest Princes presence might behold. 

But all the floore (too filthy to be told) 

\^ith blood of guiltlesse babes, and innocents trew. 
Which there were slaine as sheepe out of the fold. 
Defiled was, that dreadfull was to vew ; 

And sacred ashes over it was strowed new. 

XXXVI. And there beside of marble stone was built 
An Altare, carv’d with cunning ymagery. 

On which trew Christians blood was often spilt. 

And holy Martyres often doen to dye 
With cruell malice and strong tyranny: 

Whose blessed sprites, from underneath the stone, 

To God for vengeance cryde continually; 

And with great griefe were often heard to grone, 

That hardest heart would bleede to hear their piteous 

xxxvii. Through every rowme he sought, and everie bowr, 

But no where could he find that wofull thrall : 

At last he came unto an yron doore. 

That fast was lockt, but key found not at all 
Emongst that bounch to open it withall ; 

But in the same a little grate was pight, 

Through which he sent his voyce, and lowd did call 

With all his powre, to weet if living wight 

Were housed therewithin, whom he enlargen might. 

XXXVIII. Therewith an hollow, dreary, murmuring voyce 
These pitteous plaintcs and dolours did resound; 

“ O ! who is that, which bringes me happy choyce 
Of death, that here lye dying every stound. 

Yet live perforce in balefull darkenesse bound? 

For now three Moones have changed thrice their hew, 
And have been thrice hid underneath the ground. 
Since I the heavens chearefull face did vew. 

01 welcome thou, that doest of death bring ty dings 

Book I — Canto VIII 113 

XXXIX. Which when that Champion heard, wijh pcrcing point 
Of pitty deare his hart was thrilled sore ; 

And trembling horrour ran tlirough cverv joynt, 

For nith of gentle knight so fowle forlore; 

Which shaking ofT, he rent that yron (lore 
With furious force and indignation fell : 

Where entred in, his h ot could find no flore, 

]3ut all a deepe dest'cnt, as darke as hell. 

That breathed ever forth a hlthic bancfull jmcll. 

XL. But nether darkenesse fowle, nor filthv bands, 

Nor noyous smell, his purpose roultl withhold, 

(Entire affection hateth nic er hands) 

But that with constant zele .ind c'orage l>old, 

After long paincs and labors inanifoKl, 

lie foiincl tlie meanes that Pn^oner up to reare; 

Whose feeble thighes, unable to uphold 

Ilis pined corse, him srarse to light could b(‘arc; 

A ruefull specUicle of death and ghastly dierc. 

XLI. His sad dull eies, deepe sunc k in hollow pits, 

Could not endure th’ unwonted sunne to view; 

His bare thin cheekes for want of be*tter bits, 

And empty sides deceived of their dew. 

Could make a stony hart his hap to rew ; 

His rawbonc armes, whose mighty brawind bowrs 
AN’cre wont to nve stccle [dates, and helmets hew. 

Were dene consum’d ; and all Ins vitall [)owrcs 
Decayd, and all his flesh shrunk uj) like withered fkiwers. 

XLii. Whome when his l^dy saw, to him she ran 
With hasty joy: to see him made* her glad. 

And sad to view his visage pale and wan, 

Who earst in flowres of freshest youth was cl id. 

Tho, when her well of teares she wasted had, 

She said ; Ah dearest I>ord ! what evill .starro 
On you hath frownd, an<j pourd his influence bad, 
That of your sclfe ye thus berobbed arre, 

And this misseeming hew your manly looks doth marre? 

XLiii. “ But welcome now, my I^^rd in wele or woe. 

Whose presence I have lackt too long a day; 

And fie on Fortune, mine avowed foe, 

1 14 The Faerie Queene 

Whos^ wrathful wreakes them selves doe now alay ; 
And for these wronges shall treble penaunce pay 
Of treble good: good growes of evils priefe.” 

The chearclesse man, whom sorrow did dismay. 

Had no delight to treaten of his griefe; 

His long^endured famine needed more reliefe. 

XLiv. “ Faire Lady,” then said that victorious knight, 

“ Jhe things, that grievous were to doe, or bearc. 
Them to renew, I wote, breeds no delight; 

Best miisicke brecds^delight in loathing eare: 

But ih* only good that growes of passed fearc 
Is to be wise, and ware of like agein. 

This daies ensample hath this lesson deare 
Decpe written in my heart with yron pen. 

That blisse may not abide in state of mortall men. 

XLV. ” Henceforth, Sir knight, take to you wonted strength, 
And maistcr these mishaps with patient might. 

Loc! where your foe lies stretcht in monstrous length; 
And loc ! that wicked woman in your sight, 

The roote of all your care and wretched plight, 

Now in your f>owre, to let her live, or die.” 

To doe her die,” (quoth Una) ” were despight, 

And shame t’avenge so weakc an enimy ; 

But spoile her of her scarlot robe, and let her fly.” 

XLVI. So, as she bad, that witch they disaraid, 

And robd of roiall robes, and purple pall. 

And ornaments that richly were disj)laid; 

Nc spared they to strip her naked all. 

Then, when they had despoyld her tire and call. 

Such as she was their eies might her behold, 

That her misshaped parts did them appall: 

A loathly, wrinckled hag, ill favoured, old, 

Whose secret filth good manners biddeth not be told. 

XLVii. Her crafty head was altogether bald. 

And, as in hate of honorable eld, 

Was overgrowne with scurfe and filthy scald ; 

Her teeth out of her rotten gummes were feld, 

And her sowre breath abhominably smeld ; 

Her dried dugs, lyke bladders lacking wind, 

Book I — Canto VIII 1 1 5 

Hong downe, and filthy matter from them weld ; 

-Her wrizled skin, as rough as maple rii?d, 

So scabby was tliat would have loathd all womankind. 

XL VIII. Her neather parts, the shame of all her kind, 

My chaster Muse for shame doth blush to write; 

But at her rompe she growing had l^hind 
A foxes taile, with dong all fowly dight ; 

And eke her fcete most mouNtrous were insight; 

For one of them was like an Kagles claw, 

With griping Udaunts amul to greedy fight; 

The other like a bcares Uneven paw. 

More ugly shape yet never living creature siiw. 

XLix. Which when the knights beheld amazd they were, 

And wondred at so fowlc deformed wight. 

“ Such then,” (said Una,) ** as she scemcith here, 

Such is the f.acc of falshood ; such the sight 
Of fowle Duessa, when her borrowed light 
Is laid away, and countcrfcsaunce knowne.” 

Thus when they had the witch disrobed quight, 

And all her filthy feature open shownc, 

They let her goe at will, and wander waics unknownc 

L. Shee, flying fast from heavens hated face, 

And from the world that her discovered wide, 

Fled to the wa^tfull wildernesse apace, 

From living cies her open .shame to hide, 

And lurkt in rocks and caves, long uncspidc. 

But that fairc crew of knights, and Una fairc, 

Did in that castle afterwards abide, 

To rest them selves, and weary powres repaire; 

Where store they fownd of al tliat dainty was and rare 

The Faerie Queene 

1 16 


tfis loves and lif'na^e Arthiirc tells: 

The knights knitt friendly hands: 

Sir Trcvisan flies from DespevTC, 

^ Whom Kedcros knight withstands. 

I. O GOODLY golden chayne, wherewith ) fere 
The vertues linked ane in lovely wize; 

And noble mindes of yore allyed were, 

In brave poursuitt of chevalrous emprize, 

That none did others safety despize. 

Nor aid envy to him in need that stands ; 

But friendly each did others praise devize, 

How to advaunce with favourable hands, 

As this good Prince redeemd the Rcdcrossc knight from 

II. Who when their powres, empayrd through lalxir long, 
W'lth dew rejiast they had recured well, 

And that wcakc captive wight now \vc.\cd strong, 
Them list no Icnger there at leasure dwi ll. 

But forward fare as their adventures h ll: 

But, ere they parted, Una faire besought 
That straunger kmght his name and nation tell ; 

Least so great good, as he for licr had wrought, 

Should die unknown, and buned be in thanklcs tliought. 

III. “ Faire virgin,’' (said the Prince,) “ yce me require 
A thing without the compas of my witt ; 

For both tlie lignage, ami the certein Sire, 

From which I sprong, from mce are liidden yitt; 

For all so soone as life did me admitt 
Into this world, and shewed hevens IiglU, 

From mothers pap 1 taken was iinfitt, 

And streight ilehver'd to a Fary knight, 

To \)C upbrought in gentle ihcwcs and marliall might. 

IV. “ Unto Old Timon he me brought bvlivc; 

Old Timon, >\ho in yoiithly yeares hath bccne 
In warlike feates th’ expertest man alive, 

Book I — Canto IX 1 1 7 

And is the wisest now on earth I weene: 

His dwelling is low in a valley greenc, 

Under the foot of Ran ran mossy horc, 

From whence the river Dee, as sih'er cleene. 

His tombling billowes rolls with gentle rore; 

There all my dales he traind mcc up inyertuous lore. 

V. “ Thither the great magicien Merlin came, 

As was his use, ofttimes to visilt me; 

For he had charge my discipline to frame, 

And Tutors nouriture to oversee. 

Him oft and oft I askt in privity. 

Of what loines and w hat lignage I did spring ; 

W hose aunswere bad me still assuri‘d bee. 

That I was sonne and heire unto a king, 

As time in her just term the truth to light should bring.” 

VI. ” W’cll worthy inifie,” said then the Hidy gent, 

” And Pupill fitt for such a Tutors hand! 

Ihit what adventure, or what higli intent. 

Hath brought you hither into Faery lainl, 

Aread, Prince Arthure, crownc of Afartiall band? ” 

” P"ull hard it is,” ((juotli he) ” tf) read aright 
The course of heavenly <MUse, or understand 
The secret meaning of th' eternall miglil. 

That rules mens waics, and rules the thoughts of living 

VII. ” For wheth(!r he, through fatal de(‘pe foresight. 

Me hither sent for cause to me unghest ; 

Or that fresh bleeding wound, whah fla\- and night 
Winlome doth rancle m my m j-n brest, 

W’lth forced furv following his behest. 

Me hither brought bv \Naves yet ne\(‘r found, 

Vou to have heijit I lufid niv ^elfe v«'t blest." 

” Ah! courteous Knight, "(fjuoth she)“ what serret wound 
Tould ever find to grieve the gentle st hart on ground? ” 

VIII. " Dear Dame," (quoth he) ** vou slerqiing spnrkes awake, 
Which, troublcfl once, into huge flames will gnnv; 

Xe e\< r will their fervent fury slake, 

Till living moysture into smoke do flfiw, 

And wasted life floe lye m ashes low: 

Vet sithens silenc e Icsscncth not mv fire, 

♦ j. 4 13 ' 

ii8 The Faerie Queene 

But, told, it flames ; and, hidden, it does glow, 

I will revele what ye so much desire. 

Ah, Love ! lay down thy bow, the whiles I may respyre. 

IX. “ It was in freshest flowre of youthly yeares. 

When corage first does creepe in manly chest. 

Then firstShe cole of kindly heat appeares 
To kindle love in every living brest: 

BuJ me had wamd old Timons wise behest, 

Those creeping flames by reason to subdew, 

Before their rage grew to so great unrest. 

As miserable lovers usfe to rew, 

Which still wex old in woe, whiles wo stil wexeth new. 

X. “ That ydle name of love, and lovers life, 

As losse of time, and vertucs enimy, 

I ever scornd, and joyd to stirre up strife. 

In middcst of their moumfull Tragedy; 

Ay wont to laugh when them I heard to cry, 

And blow the fire which them to ashes brent; 

Their God himselfe, grieved at my libertie, 

Shott many a dart at me with ficrs intent; 

But I them warded all with wary government. 

XI. “ But all in vaine: no fort can be so strong, 

Ne fleshly brest can armed be so sownd, 

But will at last be wonne with battrie long. 

Or unawares at disavantage fownd. 

Nothing is sure that growes on earthly grownd; 

And who most trustes in arme of fleshly might, 

And boastes in beauties chaine not to be bownd, 

Doth soonest full in disaventrous fight. 

And yeeldes his caytive neck to victours most despight. 

xn. “ Ensample make of him your haplesse joy. 

And of my selfe now mated, as ye see ; 

Whose prouder vaunt tliat proud avenging boy 
Did soone pluck downc, and curbd my libertee. 

For on a day, prickt forth with jollitee 
Of looser life and heat of hardiment, 

Raunging the forest wide on courser free. 

The fields, the floods, the heavens, with one consent, 
Did seeme to laugh on me, and favour mine intent. 

Book I — Canto IX 1 19 

XIII. “ Forwearied with my sportes, I did aligl^ 

From loftie steed, and downe to sleepe me layd; 

The verdant gras my couch did goodly dight, 

And pillow was my helmett fayre displayd; 

Whiles every sence the humour sweet embayd, 

And slombring soft my hart did steale ^way, 

Me seemed, by my side a royall Mayd 

Her daintie limbes full softly down did lay: 

So fayre a creature yet saw never sunny day. # 

XIV. “ Most goodly glee and lovely blandishment 
She to me made, and badd me love her dcare ; 

For dearely sure her love was to me bent, 

As, when just time expired, should appearc. 

But whether dreames delude, or true it were, 

Was never hart so ravisht with delight, 

Ne living man like wordcs did ever hcare, 

As she to me delivered all that night; 

And at her parting said. She Qucenc of haerics hight. 

XV. “ When I awoke, and found her place devoyd, 

And nought but pressed gras where she liad lyen, 

I sorrowed all so much as earst I joyd, 

And washed all her place with watry even. 

From that day forth I lov’d that face divync; 

From that day forth I cast in carcfiill mynd, 

To seek her out with labrr and long tyne, 

And never vowd to rest till her I fynd : 

Nyne monethes I seek in vain, yet ni'll that vow unbynd.” 

XVI. Thus as he spake, his visage wexerl pale, 

And chaunge of hew great passion flid bewray; 

Yctt still he strove to cloke his inward bale, 

And hide the smoke that did his fire display, 

Till gentle Una thus to him gan say: 

** O happy Queene of Faeries! that hast fownd, 

Mongst many, one that with his prowesse may 
Defend thine honour, and thy foes confownd. 

True loves are often sown, but seldom grow on grownd,” 

XVII. “ Thine, O! then,” said the gentle Rcdcrossc knight, 

“ Next to that Ladies love, shall>c the place, 

O fayrest virgin ! full of heavenly light, 

1 20 

The Faerie Queene 

Whos^ wondrous faith, exceeding earthly race. 

Was firmest fixt in myne extremest case. 

And you, my Lord, the Patrone of my life. 

Of that great Queene may well gaine worthie grace, 
For onely worthie you through prowes priefe, 

Yf living man mote worthie be to be her liefe.’’ 

xvzii. So diversly discoursing of their loves, 

Tiie golden Sunne his glistrmg head gan shew. 

And sad remcmbraunce now the Prince amoves 
With fresh desire his^ voyage to purscw; 

Als Una earnd her traveill to renew. 

Then those two knights, fast friendship for to bynd, 
And love establish each to other trew. 

Gave goodly gifts, the signcs of gratefull mynd, 

And eke, as pledges firme, right hands together joynd 

XIX. Prince Arthur gave a boxc of Diamond .sure, 

Embowd with gold and gorgeous ornament. 

Wherein were ( losd few drops of liquor pure, 

Of wondrous worth, and vertue excellent, 

That any wownd could heale incontinent. 

Which to requite, the Rcdcrosse knight him gave 
A bookc, wherein his Savcours testament 
Was writt with golden letters rich and brave: 

A worke of wondrous grace, and hable soulcs to save. 

XX. Thus beene they parted; Arthur on his way 
To seeke his love, and th' other for to fight 
With Unaes foe, that all her real me did pray. 

But she, now weighing the decayed plight 
And shrunken synewes of her chosen knight, 

Would not a while her forward course pursew, 

Nc bring him forth in face of drcadfull fight, 

Till he recovered had his former hew; 

For him to be yet weake and wearie well she knew. 

XXI. So as they travcild, lo! they gan espy 

An armed knight towards them gallop fast. 

That seemed from some feared foe to fly. 

Or other griesly thing that him aghast. 

Still as he fledd his eye was backward cast. 

As if his feare still followed him behynd: 


Book I — Canto IX 

Als flew his steed as he his bandes had boost, 

And with his winged heclcs did tread the wynd, 

As he had beene a foie of Pegasus his kynd. 

XXII. Nigh as he drew, they might perceive his head 
To bee unarmd, and curld uncombed hjares 
Upstaring stifle, dismaid with uncouth dread; 

Nor drop of blood in all !iis face appoarcs, 

Nor life in limbe; and. to increiise his feares,^ 

In fowle reproch of knighthoodes fayre degree, 

About his neck an hempen rope he wearcs, 

That with his glistring arm*es docs ill agree; 

But he of rope or armes has now no memorcc. 

XXIII. The Redcrosse knight toward him crossed fast, 

To weet what mister wight was so disinayd. 

There him he findes all sencclesse anrl aghast, 

That of him sclfe he seenul to be afrayd ; 

Whom hardly he from flying forward slayd, 

Till he these wordes to him d(‘liver might: 

Sir knight, aread who hath ye thus arayd, 

And eke from whom make ye this hasty flight? 

For never knight I saw in such misseeming [)light.’’ 

XXIV. He answerd nought at all: but adding new 
Fearc to his fir.‘>t amazement, st.iring wyde 
With stony eyes and hollow hew, 

Astonisht sU)od, as one that had asjiyde 
Infernall furies with their chaines untyde. 

Him yett againe, and \ett againc, bt'spake 
The gentle knight; who nought to him replyde; 

Hut, trembling every joynt, dni inly (juake. 

And foltring tcjnguc, at hist, these words seemd forth to 

XXV. “ For Gods dcare love, Sir knight, doc me not stay; 

For loc! he comes, he comes fast after rnee.” 

Kft looking back would faine have runne away; 

Hut he him forst to stay, and tellen free 
The secrete cause of his perplexitie: 

Yet nathemore by his hold hartic speach 
Could his blood frosen hart emboldened bee, 

But through his boldncs rather fearc did reach; 

Yett, forst, at kist he made through silence suddcin breach. 

I 22 

The Faerie Queenc 

XXVI. ** Andiam I now in safetie sure/’ (quoth he) 

“ From him that would have forced me to dye? 

And IS the point of death now turnd fro mee, 

That I may tell this haplesse history? ” 

“ Fear nought/’ (quoth he) “ no daunger now is nye.’ 
“ Then ^all I you recount a rucfull cace/’ 

(Said he) “ the which with this unlucky eye 
I late beheld; and, had not greater grace 
Me reft from it, had bene partaker of the place. 

XXVII. ** I lately chaunst (\Fould I had never chaunst!) 

With a fayre knight to keepen companee, 

Sir Terwin bight, that well himselfe advaunst 
In all affayres, and was both bold and free; 

But not so happy as mote happy bee: 

He lov’d, as was his lot, a Lady gent 
That him againe lov’d in the least degree; 

For she was proud, and of too high intent. 

And joyd to see her lover languish and lament: 

XXVIII. From whom retourning sad and comfortlesse, 

As on the way together we did fare. 

We met that villen, (God from him me blessc!) 

That cuised wight, trom whom 1 scapt whyleare, 

A man of hell tliat calls himselfe Despayre: 

Who first us greets, and after fayre areedes 
Of tydmges straunge, and of adventures rare: 

So creeping close, as Snake in hidden weedes, 
Inquireih of our states, and of our knightly deedes. 

XXIX. “ Which when he knew, and felt our feeble harts 
Kmbost with bale, and bitter byting griefc, 

Which love had launched with bis deadly darts. 

With wounding words, and tcrines of foule rcpricfc, 
He piuckt from us all hope of dew reliele, 

That earst us held in love of lingring life; 

Then hopclesse, hartlcsse, gan the cunning thiefe 
Pciswade us dye, to stint all fuither strife: 

To me he lent tins rope, lo luia a rLi:>ty knife. 

XXX. “ With which sad instrument of hasty death, 

That wofull lover, loathing longer light, 

A wyde way made to let forth living breath: 


Book I — Canto IX 

But I, more fearefull or more lucky wight, 

Dismayd with that deformed dismall sight, 

Fledd fast away, halfe dead with dying feare; 

Ne yet assur'd of life by you, Sir knight, 

Whose like infirmity like chaunce may beare; 

But God you never let his charmed steadies heare! ” 

XXXI. “ How may a man,*' (siid he) “ with idle spearh 
Be w’onne to spoylc the Castle of his health.'^** 

“ I wote/* (quoth he) “ whom try all late did teach, 
That like would not for ajl this worldcs wealth. 

His subtile tong like dropping bonny mealt'h 
Into the heart, and seareheth every vaine; 

That, ere one be aware, by secret stealth 
His powre is reft, and weaknes doth remaine. 

O! never, Sir, desire to try his guilcfull traine.'' 

XXXII. “ Certes,” (sayd he) “ hence shall I never rest, 

Till I that treachours art have heard and tryde; 

And you, Sir knight, whose name mote I request, 

Of grace do me unto his cabin giiyde.’* 

I, that hight 'JYcvisan,*' (quoth he) “ will ryde 
Against my liking backe to <Ioe you grace: 

But nor for gold nor glee will I abyde 
By you, when ye arrive in that same place; 

For lever had I die then see his deadly fac e.” 

xxxiil. Krc long they come where that same wicked wiglit 
His dwelling has, low in an hollow cave, 

P'or underneath a craggy cliff ypight, 

Darke, dolcfull, dreary, like a greedy grave. 

That still for carrion carcases doth crave: 

On top whereof ay dwelt the ghastly Owlc, 

Shrieking his balefull note, whif h ever dravc 
Far from that haunt all other chcarc full fowle; 

And all about it wandring ghostes did waylc and howlc. 

xxxiv. And all about old storkes and stubs of trees. 

Whereon nor fruit nor Icafe was ever scene, 

Did hang upon the ragged rocky knees; 

On which had many wretches hanged bccne. 

Whose carcases were scattred on the grec ne, 

An<l thrownc about the cliffs. Arrived there, 

124 The Faerie Queene 

That bare-head knight, for dread and dolefull teene, 
Would faine have fled, ne durst approchen neare; 

But th^ other forst him staye, and comforted in feare. 

XXXV. That darkesome cave they enter, where they find 
That cufscd man, low sitting on the ground, 

Musing full sadly in his sullein mind: 

His griesie lockcs, long growen and unbound, 
Bisordred hong about his shoulders round, 

And hid his face, through which his hollow eyne 
Lookt deadly dull, ^nd stared as astound; 

His raw-bone cheekes, through penurie and pine, 

Were shronke into his jawes, as he did never dyne. 

xxxvi. His garment, nought but many ragged clouts, 

With thornes together pind and patched was. 

The which his naked sides he wrapt abouts; 

And him beside there lay upon the gras 
A dreary corse, whose life away did pas, 

All wallowd in his own yet liike-warme blood, 

That from his wound yet welled fresh, alas ! 

In which a rusty knife fast fixed stood, 

And made an open passage for the gushing flood. 

xxxvii. Which piteous spectacle, approving trcw 
The wofull tale that Trcvisan had told, 

Whenas the gentle Rcdcrossc knight did vew, 

With firie zeale he burnt in courage bold 
Him to avenge before his blood were cold. 

And to the villein sayd ; “ 'riiou damned \v ight, 

The aiithour of this fact we here behold, 

What justice can but judge against thee right, 

With thine owne blood to price his blood, here shed in 
sight? ” 

xxxvili. “ What franticke fit,’’ (quoth he) “ hath thus distraught 
Thee, foolish man, so rash a doome to give ? 

What justice ever other judgement taught. 

But he should dye who nicrites not to live? 

None els to death this man despayring drive 
But his owne guiltie mind, deserving death. 

Is then unjust to each his dew to give ? 

Or let him dye, that loathcth living breath, 

Or let him die at case, that liveth here unealh? 


Book I — Canto IX 

XXXIX. “ Who travailcs by the wearie wandring way. 

To come unto his wished home in haste. 

And meetes a flood that doth his passage sUiv, 

Is not great grace to helpc him over past, 

Or free his feet that in the my re sticke fast? 

Most envious man, that grieves at n^ghbours good ; 
And fond, that joyest in the woe thou hast! 

Why wilt not let him passe, that long hath stood 
Upon the bancke, yet wilt thy selfe not pas# the flood? 

XL. ** He there docs now enjoy etcrnall rest 

And happy ease, which tliou doest want and crave, 
And further from it daily wandcrest: 

What if some little pa\ne the passage have, 

That makes frayle flesh to feare the i)itti‘r wiive, 

Is not short payne well borne, that bringes long case, 
And layes the souk* to sleepe in cjuiet grave? 

Slcepe after toyle, port after stormie seas, 

Kase after warre, death after life, does greatly please,” 

XLI. The knight much wondred at his suddeine wit, 

And sayd ; “ d'he terme of life is limited, 

Ne may a man prolong, nor shorten, it: 

I'he souldicr may not move from watt hfull 
Nor leave his stan<l untill his (aplaine Inul.” 

“ Who life did limit by almightie doome,” 

(Quoth h(*) “ knowes host the icrmes established; 

And he, that ]joinls the (knUjnell his roome, 

Doth license him depart at sound of morning droome." 

XLii. “ Is not his deed, what ever thing is tlc)nne 
In heaven and earth? Did not he all rrratc 
To die againe? All ends that was hegonne: 

Their limes in his eternall booke of fate 
Are written sure, and have their * ertein date. 

Who then ran strive with strong nccessitie. 

That holfls the world in his still chaungmg state, 

Or shunne the rlcath ordayml by dcslinie? 

When hourc of death is come, let none aske whence, nor 

XLiii. “ The longer life, I wotc, the greater sin; 

The greater sin, the greater punishment: 

All those great battels, which thou boasts to win 


The Faerie Queen e 

Through strife, and blood-shed, and avengement. 

Now praysd, hereafter deare thou shalt repent; 

For life must life, and blood must blood, repay. 

Is not enough thy evill life forespent? 

For he that once hath missed the right way. 

The furtlier he doth goe, the further he doth stray. 

XLiv. ** Then doe no further goe, no further stray, 

Blit here ly downe, and to thy rest betake, 

Th* ill to prevent, that life ensewen may; 

For what hath life thjtt may it loved make, 

And gives not rather cause it to forsake ? 

Feare, sicknesse, age, losse, labour, sorrow, strife, 
Payne, hunger, cold that makes the hart to quake. 
And ever fickle fortune rageth rife; 

All which, and thousands mo, do make a loathsome life. 

XLV. “ Thou, wretched man, of death hast greatest need. 

If in true ballaunce thou wilt weigh thy state; 

For never knight, that dared warlike deed. 

More luckless dissaventurcs did amate : 

Witnos the dungeon dcepe, wherein of late 
Thy life shutt up for death so oft did call; 

And though good lucke prolonged hath thy date. 

Yet death then would the like mishaps forestall. 

Into the which hereafter thou maist happen fall. 

XLVI. “ Why then doest thou, O man of sin! desire 
To draw thy dayes forth to their last degree.^ 

Is not the measure of thy sinfull hire 
High heaped up with huge inicpiitee, 

Against the day of wrath to burden thee ? 

Is not enough, that to this Lady mild 
Thou falsed hast thy faith with perjurce 
And sold thy sclfe to serve Duessa vild. 

With whom in al abuse thou hast thy sclfe defild? 

XLVii. ** Is not he just, that all this doth behold 

From highest heven, and beares an equall eie? 

Shall he thy sins up in his knowledge fold, 

And guilty be of thine impietie? 

Is not his lawe, I^t every sinner die; 

Die shall all flesh? What then must needs be donne. 

1 27 

Book I — Canto IX 

Is it not better to doe willinglie, 

Then linger till the glas be all out ronne? 

Death is the end of woes: die soone, O faeries sonne ! 

XLViii. The knight was much enmoved with his speach, 

That as a swords poynt through his ^art did perse, 
And in his conscience made a secrete breach, 

Well knowing trew all that he did reherse. 

And to his fresh remembraiince did reverse » 

The ugly vew of his deformed crimes; 

That all his manly powres it did disperse, 

As he were charmed witfi inchaunted rimes ; 

That oftentimes he quakt, and fainted oftentimes. 

XLix. In which amazement when the Miscreaunt 
Perceived him to waver, weake and fraile, 

Whiles trembling horror did his conscience daunt, 

And hellish anguish did his soule assaile; 

To drive him to despaire, and cjiiite to quailc, 

Hee shewd him, painted in a table plaine, 

The damned ghosts that doe in torments waile. 

And thousand feends that doe them endlesse paine 
With fire and brimstone, which for ever shall remainc. 

L. The sight whereof so throughly him dismaid, 

'Fliat nought but death before his eics he saw, 

And ever burning wrath Indore him laid, 

By righteous sentence of th' Almighties law. 

Then gan the villein him to overcraw, 

And brought unto him swords, roprs, poison, fire, 

And all that might him to perdition draw; 

And bad him choose \\hat death he would desire; 

For death w«as dew to him that had provokt Gods ire. 

LI. But, whenas none of them he saw him take, 

He to him raught a dagger sharpe and kecne, 

And gave it him in hand: his hand did quake 
And tremble like a Icafe of Aspin grccnc. 

And troubled blood through his pale face was scene 
To come and goe with tidings from the heart, 

As it a ronning messenger had beenc. 

At last, resolv’d to work his finall smart. 

He lifted up his hand, that backe againe did start. 

128 The Faerie Queene 

Lii. Which whenas Una saw, through every vaine 
The crudled cold ran to her well of life, 

As in a swowne: but, soone reliv’d againe, 

Out of his hand she snatcht the cursed knife, 

And threw it to the ground, enraged rife, 

And to Ijim said; “ Fie, fie, faint hearted Knight! 
What meanest thou by this reprochfull strife ? 

Is this the battaile which thou vauntst to fight 
\\ith that fire-mouthed Dragon, horrible and bright? 

Liii. “ Come; come away^ fraile, feeble, fleshly wight, 

Ne let vaine words bewitch thy manly hart, 

Ne divclish thoughts dismay thy constant spright: 

In heavenly mercies hast thou not a part ? 

Why shouldst thou then despeire, that chosen art? 

* Where justice growes, there grows eke greater grace. 
The which doth quench the brond of hellish smart. 
And that accurst hand-writing doth deface. 

Arise, sir Knight; arise, and leave this cursed place.” 

Liv. So up he rose, and thence amounted streight. 

Which w'hen the carle beheld, and saw his gucsi 
W'ould safe depart, for all his subtile sleight, 
lie chose an halter from among the rest, 

And with it hong him sclfc, uni)id, iinblest. 
but death he could not workc himsclfe thereby; 

For thousand times he so him sclfe had drest, 

Yet nathelcsse it could not doe him die, 

Till he should die his last, that is, eternally. 

Book I — Canto X 

1 29 


Her faithful! kiiij»ht fairc Una brinj^ 

T«> house of Holinesse, 

\\ here he is tau^;ht n'piMitaunce, and 
The wav to he\enlv biesse. 

I, What man is he. that boasts of fleshly mii;ht 
And vaine assuraunce of mortality. 

Which, all so soom* as it doth come to fi^ht 
A.cjainst spiritnall foes, yields by and by, 

Or from the fndde most ro\v*irdlv doth fly! 

Ne let the man ascribe it to his skill, 

That thoroii^di ^^race hath gained victory: 

If any strength we havt*, it is to ill. 

But all the good is Goib. both power and eke will, 

ir. By that which lately hapned Tna '^.lw 

That this her knight was feeble, and too faint ; 
And all his sinewes woxen weake and raw, 
Through long enprisonment, anrl hard constraint, 
Which he endured in his late restraint, 

That yet he was iinfitt for bkiody fight. 

Therefore, to cherish him with diets daint, 

She cast to bring him where he chearen might, 

Till he recovered had his late decayed pl.ght. 

III. There was an auneient h(nisc nor far away, 
Renowmd throughout the world for sacred lore 
And pure unspotted life: s») well, they s.iy, 

It governd was, and gui<lccl evermore, 

Through wisedomc of a matrone grave and hore; 
Wdiose onely joy wms to relieve the ncerles 
Of wretched soules, and helpc the hclpelessc poic; 
All night .she spent in bidding of her bedes, 

And all the day in doing good and godly deedes. 

IV. Dame Caelia men did her call, as thought 
From heaven to come, or thither to arise; 

The mother of three daughters, well upbrought 

130 The Faerie Queene 

In goodly thewes, and godly exercise: 

The eldest two, most sober, chast, and wise, 

Fidelia and Speranza, virgins were ; 

Though spousd, yet wanting wedlocks solemnize : 

But faire Charissa to a lovely fere 

Was linckc^, and by him had many pledges dere, 

V. Arrived there, the dore they find fast lockt, 

Forjt was warely watched night and day, 

For feare of many foes; but, when they knockt, 

The Porter opened unto them streight way. 

He was an aged syre, all hory gray, 

With lookes full lowly cast, and gate full slow, 

Wont on a staffe his feeble steps to stay, 

Hight Humilta. They passe in, stouping low; 

For streight and narrow was the way which he did show. 

VI. Each goodly thing is hardest to begin ; 

But, entred in, a spatious court they see. 

Both plaine and pleasaunt to be walked in ; 

Where them does mecte a francklin faire and free, 

And entcrtaincs with comely courteous glee; 

His name was Zeic, that him right well became: 

For in his speachcs and behaviour hce 
Did labour lively to exprcsse the same. 

And gladly did them guide, till to the Hall they came. 

VII. There fay rely them receives a gentle Squyre, 

Of myid demeanure and rare courtesee. 

Right cleanly clad in comely sad attyre ; 

In word and decde that shewd great modcstee. 

And knew his good to all of each degree, 

Hight Reverence. He them with speaches meet 
Docs faire entreat ; no courting nicetee, 

But simple, trew, and eke unfained sweet, 

As might become a Squyre so great persons to greet. 

VIII. And afterwardes them to his Dame he leades. 

That aged Dame, the Lady of the place, 

Who all this while was busy at her beades ; 

Which doen, she up arose with seemely grace. 

And toward them full matronely did pace. 

Where, when that fairest Una she beheld, 


Book I — Canto X 

Whom well she knew to spring from hevcnly race, 
Her heart with joy unwonted inly sweld, • 

As feeling wondrous comfort in her weaker eld; 

IX. And, her embracing, said; “ O happy earth, 
Whereon thy innocent feet doe ever tread ! 

Most vertuous virgin, borne of hevenly^rth. 

That, to redeeme thy woetull parents head 
From tyrans rage and ever-dying dread, 

Hast wandred through the world now long a clay, 
Yett ceasscst not thy weary soles to lead ; 

What grace hath thee now*hither brought this way? 
Or doen thy feeble feet unweeting hither stniy? 

X. “ Straunge thing it is an errant knight to sec 
Here in this place; or any other wight, 

That hither turnes his steps. So few there bee, 

That chose the narrow path, or seeke the right: 

All keepe the broad high way, and tiike delight 
With many rather for to goe astray, 

And be partakers of their evill plight. 

Then with a few to walkc the nghtest way. 

O foolish men! why hast ye to your own <iccay? ** 

XI. Thy selfe to see, and tyred limbes to rest, 

O matrone sage,” (quoth she) ” I hither came; 

And this good knight his way with me addrest, 

Ledd with thy prayses, and broad-bla/xn! fame, 

That up to heven is blowne.” The auncient Dame 
Him goodly greeted in her modest guyse. 

And cntertcynd them l^ith, as best became, 

With all the courtesies that she could clevyse, 

Ne wanted ought to shew her Ixiunteoiis or wise. 

XII. Thus as they gan of sondrie thinges devise, 

Loe ! two most goodly virgins came in place, 

Ylinked arme in arme in lovely wise; 

With countenance demure, and modest grace, 

They numbred even steps and cquall pace; 

Of which the eldest, that Fidelia hight, 

Like sunny l>eames threw from her Christall face 
That could have dazd the rash l>eholders sight. 

And round about her head did shine like hevens light. 

132 The Faerie Queene 

XIII. She was araied all in lilly white. 

And in her right hand bore a cup of gold, 

With wine and water fild up to the hight, 

In which a Serpent did himselfe enfold, 

That horrour made to all that did behold; 

But she no whitt did chaunge her constant mood : 

And in her other hand she fast did hold 
A booke, that was both signd and seald with blood; 
Wherein darke things were writt, hard to be understood. 

XIV. Her younger sister, that Speranza hight, 

Was clad in blew, that*her beseemed well; 

Not all so chearefull seemed she of sight, 

As was her sister: whether dread did dwell 
Or anguish in her hart, is hard to tell. 

Upon her arme a silver anchor lay, 

Whereon she leaned ever, as befell; 

And ever up to heven, as she did pray, 

Her stedfast eyes wxtc bent, ne swarved other way. 

XV. They, seeing Una, towardes her gan wend, 

Who them encounters with like courtesee; 

Many kind speeches they betweene them spend. 

And greatly joy each other for to see: 

Then to the knight with shamefast modestie 
lliey turne themselves, at Unacs mecke request. 

And him salute with well beseeming glee; 

Who fairc them qiiites, as him beseemed l>e5t. 

And goodly gan discourse of many a noble gest. 

XVI. Then Una thus: “ But she, your sister deare. 

The dearc C'harissa, where is she !:>ecome ? 

Or wants she health, or busie is elsewhere? ” 

“ Ah! no,” said they, ” but forth she may not come; 
For she of late is lightned of her wimibe, 

And hath enereast the w^orld with (uie sonne more, 
That her to sec should be but troublesome.” 

“ Indeed,” (quoth she) ” that should her trouble sore; 
But thankt be God, and her encreasc so evermore! ” 

xvn. Then said the aged Ciclia, “ Deare dame, 

And you, good Sir, I wote that of youre toyle 
And labors long, through which ye hither came, 


Book 1 — Canto X 

Ye both forwearied be: therefore, a whylc 
I read you rest, and to your bow res recoyte/' 

Then called she a Groome, that forth him Icdd 
Into a goodly lodge, and gan despoilc 
Of puissant armes, and laid in easie bedd. 

His name was meeke Obedience, righlfiyiy aredd. 

XVIII. Now when their wearie limbcs with kindly rest, 

And bodies were refresht with dew repast, 

P'ayre Una gan Fidelia fay re retjiiest. 

To have her knight into her srhoolehoiis plaste, 

That of her heavenly learnitig he might taste, 

And hearc the wisdom of her wordes cli\ me. 

She graunted ; and that knight so much agraste, 

That she him taught celestiall discipline, 

And opened his dvill eyes, that light mote in them shine. 

XIX. And that her sacred Booke, with blootl ywritt. 

That none could rcade except she diti them te.ich. 

She unto him disclosed every whitt; 

And heavenly documents thereout did preach, 

That weaker witt of man could m*\’er reach; 

Of God; of gra('e: of justice; of fn e-will; 

Tliat wonder was to heare her goo<lly speac h: 

For she was liable with her wordes to kill. 

And rayse againe to life the hart that she did thrill. 

XX. And, when slie list poiirc out her larger spright. 

She would ('ommaund the hasty Siinne to stay, 

Or bat kwanl turne his eourse from hevens liight: 
Sometimes great hostes of men she eoiiM dismay; 
Drv-shod to passe she parts the flouds in iway; 

And eke huge mountaines from ihcir native seat 
She would commaund themselves to beare away, 

And throw in raging sea with roaring threat. 

Almightie God her gave such powre and piiissaunrc great. 

XXI. The faithfiill knight now grew in little space, 

By hearing her, and by her sisters lore, 

To such perfection of all hevenly grace. 

That wretched world he gan for to abhore, 

And mortall life gan loath as thing forK>re, 

Greevd with remembrance of his wicked wa>c.s. 


The Faerie Queene 

And prickt with anguish of his sinnes so sore, 

That he desirde to end his wretched dayes: 

So much the dart of sinfull guilt the soule dismayes. 

XXII. But wise Speranza gave him comfort sweet. 

And taujght him how to take assured hold 
Upon her silver anchor, as was meet ; 

Els had his sinnes, so great and manifold, 

Made him forget all that Fidelia told. 
fn this distressed doubtfull agony. 

When him his dearest Una did behold 
Disdcining life, desirtng leave to dye, 

She found her selfe assay Id with great perplexity; 

xxfli. And came to Caclia to declare her smart; 

Who, well acquainted with that commune plight. 
Which sinfull horror workes in wounded hart, 

Her wisely comforted all that she might, 

VV^ith goodly counsell and advisement right; 

And streightway sent with carefull diligence, 

To fetch a Leach, the which had great insight 
In that disease of grieved conscience, 

And well could cure the same: His name was Patience. 

XXIV. Who, comming to that sowle-diseased knight, 

Could hardly him intreat to tell his grief: 

Which knowne, and all that noyd his heavie spright 
Well searcht, eftsoones he gan apply relief 
Of salves and med’eines, which had passing prief ; 

And thereto added wordes of wondrous might. 

By which to ease he him recured brief. 

And much aswag’d the passion of his plight, 

That he his paine endur’d, as seeming now more light. 

XXV. But yet the cause and root of all his ill. 

Inward corruption and infected sin, 

Not purg’d nor heald, behind remained still. 

And festring sore did ranckle yett within. 

Close creeping twixt the marow and the skin: 

Which to extirpe, he laid him privily 
Downe in a darksome lowly place far in. 

Whereas he meant hb corrosives to apply. 

And with streight diet tame hb stubl^me malady. 

Book I — Canto X 


XXVI. In ashes and sackcloth he did array 

His daintie corse, proud humors to abate; 

And dieted with fasting every day, 

The swelling of his woundes to mitigate; 

And made him pray both earely and eke late: 

And ever, as superfluous flesh did rot>, 

Amendment readie still at hantl did wayt, 

To pluck it out with pincers fyrie whott, 

That soone in him was lefte no one corrupted jott 

xxvii. And bitter Penaunce, with an yron whip, 

Was wont him once to drsplc every day: 

And sharp Remorse his hart did prick and nip, 

That drops of blood thence like a well did play: 

And sad Repentance used to embay 
His blamefull body in salt water sore, 

The filthy blottes of sin to wash away. 

So in short space they did to health restore 

The man that would not live, hut erst lay at deuthes dorc. 

xxviii. In which his torment often was so great, 

That like a Lyon he would cry and rore, 

And rend his flesh, and his owne synewes cat. 

His owne deare Una, hearing evermore 
Ilis rucfull shriekes and gronings, often tore 
Her guiltlcsse garments and her golden hearc, 

For pitty of his payne and anguish sore: 

Yet all with patience wisely she did beare, 

For w'cll she wist his cry me could els be never clcare. 

XXIX. Whom, thus recover’d by wise Patience 

And trew Repcntaunce, they to Una brought; 

Who, joyous of his cured consr imee. 

Him dearely kist, and fayrely eke besought 
Himselfc to chearish, and consuming thought 
To put away out of his carefull brest. 

By this ( harissa, late in child-bed brought, 

Was woxen strong, and left her fruitfull nest: 

To her fayre Una brought this unacquainted guest. 

XXX. She was a woman in her freshest age, 

Of wondrous beauty, and of lx)unty rare, 

With goodly grace and comely personage, 


The Faerie Qucene 

That was on earth not easie to compare; 

Full great love, but Cupids wanton snare 
As hell she hated; chaste in worke and will: 

Her necke and brests were ever open bare, 

That ay thereof her babes might sucke their fill; 

The res| was all in yellow robes arayed still. 

XXXI. A multitude of babes nbout her hong, 

flaying their sportes, that joyd her to behold ; 

Whom still she fed whiles they were weake and young, 
But thrust them forth still as they wexed old: 

And on her head she wore a tyre of gold, 

Adornd with gemmes and owches wondrous fayre, 
Whose passing price uneath was to be told: 

And by her syde there sate a gentle payre, 

Of turtle doves, she sitting in an yvory chayre. 

xxxri. The knight ami Una entring fayre her greet. 

And bid her joy of that her happy brood ; 

Who them requites with court’sies seeming meet, 

And enlcrtaynes with friendly chearefull mood. 

Then Una her besought, to be so good 

As in her vertuous rules to schoole her knight, 

Now after all his torment well withstood 
In that sad house of Penaunce, where his spright 
Had past the paines of hell and long-enduring night, 

XXXIII. She was right joyous of her just request; 

And taking by tlie hand that Faeries sonne, 

Gan him instruct in everie good behest, 

Of love, and righteousness, and \Nell to donne; 

And wrath and hatred warely to shonne, 

That drew on men Gods hatred and his wrath, 

And many soulcs in dolours had fordonne: 

In which when him she well instructed hath, 

From thence to heaven she teacheth him the ready path. 

XXXIV. Wherein his weaker wandring steps to guyde, 

An auncient matrone she to her docs call. 

Whose sober lookes her wisedome well descrj de : 

Her name was Mercy ; well knowne over-all 
To be l)oth gratious and eke liberall: 

To whom the carefiill charge of him she gave. 


Book I— Canto X 

To leade aright, that he should never fall 
In all his waies through this wide worldts wave; 

That Mercy in the end his righteous soulc might save 

XXXV. The godly .Afatrone by the hand him bearcs 
Forth from her presence, by a narrow fwav, 

Scattred with bushy tborncs and raggctl brcarcs, 
Which still before him she remov’d awa>', 

That nothing might his ready passage sUiy: 

And ever, wlien his feet encombred were, 

Or gan to shrinke, or from the right to stray, 

She held him fast, and firfnely did upbeare, 

As carefiill Nourse her child from falling oft docs rcare. 

XXXVI. Eftsoones unto an holy Hospital], 

That was foreby the way, she did him l>ring; 

In which seven Bead-men, that had vowed all 
Their life to service of high heavens King, 

Did spend their daies in doing godlv thing. 

Their gates to all were open evermore. 

That by the weane way were travelling; 

Ami one sate way ting ever them before. 

To call in commers-by that noedv wen* and pore. 

XXXVII. The first of them, that eldest w.i^ and best, 

Of all the house had charge and government, 

As (iuardian and Steward of the rest. 

His office was to gi\e enterUnnement 
And lodging unto all that aiuui and went; 

Niit unto such as could him feast againe, 

Ami double quite for that he on them sjx'nt; 

But such as want of harbour did c onstraine: 

Those for (lods sake his dewty was U) enterUiine. 

XXXVIII. The second was as Almncr of the plare: 

His office was the hungry for to feerl, 

And thristy give tr» drinkc; a worke of grace. 

He fcard not once himsclfe to be in need, 

Ne car’d to hoord for those whom he did hreede; 

The grace of God he layd up still in store, 

Which as a stocke he left unto his scede. 

He had enough; wfuil need him care, for more? 

And had he Icsse, yet some he would give U> the pore 

138 The Faerie Queene 

XXXIX. The third had of their wardrobe custody, 

In wRich were not rich tyres, nor garments gay, 

The plumes of pride, and winges of vanity. 

But clothes meet to keepe keene cold away. 

And naked nature seemely to aray ; 

With \M{iich bare wretched wights he dayly clad, 

The images of God in earthly clay ; 

And, if that no spare clothes to give he had, 

^lis owne cote he would cut, and it distribute glad. 

XL. Tlie fourth appointed by his office was 

Poore prisoners to relieve with gratious ayd, 

And captives to redeeme with price of bras 
From Turkes and Sarazins, which them had stayd: 
And though they faulty were, yet well he wayd, 

That God to us forgiveth every howre 

Much more then that why they in bands were layd ; 

And he, that harrowd hell with heavie stowre, 

The faulty soules from thence brought to his heavenly 

XU. The fift had charge sick persons to attend, 

And comfort those in point of death which lay ; 

For them most ncedeth comfort in the end, 

When sin, and hell, and death, doe most dismay 
The feeble soule departing hence away. 

All is but lost, that living we bestow. 

If not well ended at our dying day. 

O man! have mind of that last bitter throw; 

For as the tree does fall, so lyes it ever low. 

XLii. The sixt had charge of them now being dead, 

In seemely sort their corses to engrave, 

And deck with dainty flowres their brvdall bed. 

That to their heavenly spouse both sw'cct and brave 
They might appeare, when he their soules shall save. 
The w'ondrous workmanship of Gods owne mould, 
W'hose face he made all Ijeastes to feare, and gave 
All in his hand, even dead we honour should. 

Ah, dearest God, me graunt, I dead be not dcfould ! 

XLiii. The seventh, now after death and buriall done. 

Had charge the tender Orphans of the dead 
And wydowes ayd, least they should be undone : 


Book I — Canto X 

In face of judgement he their right woujd plead, 

Ne ought the powre of mighty men did dread 
In their defence ; nor would for gold or fee 
Be wonne their rightfull causes downc to tread; 
And, when they stood in most necessitee, 

He did supply their want, and gave tlcm ever free. 

XLiv. There when the Elfin knight arrived was. 

The first and chiefest of the seven, whose cam 
Was guests to welcome, towardes him did pas; 
Where seeing Mercic, that his steps upkire 
And alwaies led, to her with re\ erencc rare 
He humbly l<nited in meeke lowlinesse, 

And seemcly welcome for her did prepare: 

For of their order she was Patronesse, 

Albe Charissa were their chiefest foundercsse. 

XLV. There she awhile him stayes, himselfe to rest, 

That to the rest more haiile he might bee; 

During which time, in every good Ix^hest, 

And godly worke of Aimes and cliaritee, 

Shce him instructed with great industrec. 

Shortly therein so perfect he l>cramc, 

That, from the first unto the last degree, 

His mortall life he learned had to frame 
In holy nghtcousnesse, without rebuke or blame. 

XLvr. Thence forward by that painfull way they pas 
Forth to an hill that was both steepc and hy, 

On top wliercof a sacred cluippell was, 

Anfl eke a litle Hermitage thereby, 

Wherein an aged holy man did lie, 

That day and night said his devotion, 

Ne other worldly business did apply: 

His name was hcvcniy Omtemplalion ; 

Of God and goodnes was his meditation. 

XLVii. Great grace that old man to him given had; 

For God he often saw from heavens hight: 

All w'ere his earthly eicn both blunt and l>ad, 

And through great age had lost their kindly sight. 
Yet w'ondrous quick and persaunt was his spright, 
As Eagles cic that can behold the Sunne. 


The Faerie Queene 

That hill they scale with all their powre and might, 

That his fraile thighes, nigh weary and fordonne, 

Gan faile; but by her helpe the top at last he wonne. 

XLViii. There they doe finde that godly aged Sire, 

With snoi^y lockes adowne his shoulders shed; 

As hoary frost with spangles doth attire 
The mossy braunches of an Oke halfe ded. 

Each bone might through his body well be red 
And every sinew scene, through his long fast: 
kor nought he (ar*d his carcas long unfed; 

Ills mind was full of spiritual repast, 

And pyn’d his flesh to keepe his body low' and chast. 

xiax. Who, when these tw'o approching lie asp'de, 

At their first presence grew^ agrieved sore, 

That forst him lay his hcvenly thoughts aside; 

And had he not that Dame respected more, 

Whom highly he did reverence and adore. 

He woiikl not once have moved for the kmght. 

They lum saluted, standing far afore, 

Who, well them greeting, humbly did requight, 

And asked to what end they clomh that tceiious hight? 

L. “ What end,” (quoth she) ‘‘should cause us take such paine, 
Jhit that same end, which every living wight 
Should make his marke high heaven to at tame? 

Is not from hence the way, that Icadeth riglil 
Tf) that most glorious house, that glistrelh bright 
With burning starres and ever living fire. 

Whereof th(' keiits are to thy hand behight 
Ey wise Fidelia^ Slice doth thee require, 

'lo sliew it to this knight, according his desire.” 

Lr. “ 'riirisc happv man,” said then the f.ither grave, 

“ Whose staggering steps thy steady hand doth lead, 
And sheues the way his sinfull suule to save! 

\\ ho better can the way to heaven aread 

Then thou th\selfe, that was both borne and bred 

In hevenly throne, where ihousirifl Angels shine? 

Thou doest the praiers of the righteous scad 
Present Ix'fore the majesty divine, 

And his a\enging wrath to clemency incline. 

Book I — Canto X 14 

Lii. " Yet, since thou bidst, thy pleasure shalbe donne. 
Then come, thou man of earth, and see tlie way. 

That never yet was scene f>f Faeries sonne; 

That never leads the traveller astr.vy, 

But after labors long ami sad tlelav, 

Brings them to joyous rest and eiK Hesse lilis. 

But first thou must a season fast and pr.iv, 

Till from her hands the spnghl assoiled is. 

And have her strength recurM from fraile infirnnitis. 

IJII. “ That done, he leads him to the highest Mount, 

Such one as that same mighty man of Cun], 

That blood-red billowes. like a walled front, 

On either side disparted with his rod. 

Till that his army dry-foot through them yod, 

Dwelt forty daics upon; where, uritt in stone 
With bloody letters bv the hand of (iod. 

The bitter doome of death and b.ilefiill mone 
He did receive, whiles flashing tire about him shone: 

Liv. Or like that sacred hill, whose hear] full hie, 

Adornd with fruitfull Olives all arownd. 

Is, as It were for endlessc memory 

Of that deare Ford wh(» oft thereon was fowoid, 

For ever with a tlowring girlond (Tf)wncl: 

Or like that pl(*as<iiint Mount, that is for ay 
Through f.imous Poets \erse each where renownd, 

On which the thrise three learnerl Dulirs play 
'fheir hc\enly notes, and make full many a lovely lay. 

LV. hVom thence, far off he unto him did shew 
A little path that was both steejx* and long, 

Which to a goorlly ( itty led his vew, 

Whose wals and towres were biulderl high and strong 
Of pcrie and precious stone, that earthly tong 
Cannot flesc nbe, nor wit of man can tell; 
loo high a flitty for my sirnpli! song. 

The C'ltty of the greate king hight it well. 

Wherein eternall peare and happinessc doth dwell. 

Lvi. As he thereon stood gazing, he might see 
llie blessed Angels to and fro descend 
From highest heven in gladsome companec, 

p 443 

142 The Faerie Queene 

And wijh great joy into that Citty wend, 

As commonly as frend does with his friend. 

Whereat he wondred much, and gan enquere, 

What stately building durst so high extend 
Her lofty tow res unto the starry sphere, 

And whal unknowen nation there empcopled were ? 

Lvn. “ Fairc Knight,” (quoth he) “ Hierusalem that is, 

The new Hierusalem, that (iud has built 
For those to dwell in that are chosen his, 

His chosen pco{)]e, purg’d from sinful guilt 
With prctious blood, which cruelly was spilt 
On cursed tree, of that unspotted lam, 

'I'hat for the sinnes of al the world was kilt: 

Now are they Saints all in that Citty sam, 

More dear unto their God thenyounglings to their dam.” 

LViii. “ Till now,” said then the knight, ” I weened well, 

That great ('leopolis, where I h*ive beene, 

In winch that fairest Faery Queene doth dwell, 

The fairest citty was that might l)e scene; 

And that bright towTe, all built of christall dene, 
Panthea, seemd the brightest thing that was; 

Put now by proofe all otherwise 1 weene. 

For this great C itty that does far surpas, 

And this bright Angels towre cjuile dims that towreof glas.' 

I IX. “ Most trew,” then said the holy aged man; 

“ \’et IS C'lcopolis, for earthly frame. 

The fairest peece that tie beholden can; 

And beseemes all knights of noble name, 

Tliat immortall booke of fame 

To Ik? same to haunt, 

And doen* t service to that soveraigne Dame, 

That jrlorv do'"® gr.iimt: 

For she is heveii' heaven may justly vaunt. 

LX. “ And thou faire v ' out from Englibh race. 

How ever now accom 
'\'ell worthy doest thv 

And high emongsTSunSr'" 

Book I — Canto X 


Tlienreforth the siiiti of earthK ronqiiest syonnc, 

And vNash thy hands from guilt of l)loody lieM: 

p'or blood can nought but mu, and wars but sorrow^ s icld. 

LXI. “ Then seek this path that 1 to thee pre.sag' 

Which after all to hea\en shall th<e ‘*endf 
Then peaceably thy paiivdull pilgrimage 
To vonder same Hierusalem doe lu rul, 

W here is for thee ordaind a bh^ssed fihl: 

For thou, emongst those Saints whom thou doest s<‘e, 
Shalt lie a Saint, and thine owne nations trend 
And Patrone: thou Stjuti (itor^^r shalt (ailed bee. 

Satui (u'or^c (d mer\ the signe of \ u toR'e.” 

LXir. “ Cnworthv wretch," ((]uotli he) of so great grace. 

How dare I thinke sm h glorv to attame,'" " 

“ These, that have it attaynd. were m like l ac'e, 

An wretched men, and li\ed in like pame " 

“ Hut deeds of arrnes must 1 at List l>c‘ lame 
And l^idies love to lease, so dcMrely boiiglit? " 

“ What need of aimes, where peace doth av nmiaine," 
(Said he) “ and bitter battailcs all are fought ? 

As f(jr loose loses, they 'are vaine.and vanish into nought.” 

LXiii. ” O! let me n(»l," (cjiioth he) ” then tnrne .ig.ime 
Piacke to the world, whose* joyes s(» fruit lesse are; 

Hut let me heart* for aie m jieaee remame. 

Or streightwa\ on that list hmg voiage fare, 

That n<Uhmg niav my jiresent hope enijiare.” 

“ d'hat may not be," (said he) “ ne in.tist thou \ itt 
ForgiiC that ro\ al maides bequeathed < are, 

Who did her c.mse into thy hand < ornmitt, 

Till from her cursed foe thou have her fn-fly fjiiitt.” 

LXiv. ** Then shall I soone," (quoth he) ” so Clod rnc gractj, 
Abett that virgins cause disconsolate, 

And shortly liack rctiirne unto this jilare, 

To walke this way in Pilgrims j)oore estate. 

But now aread, old father, why of late 
Didst thou beliight me borne of I-.nglish blood, 

Whom a\\ a P' aeries sonne doen nominate? ” 

“ That word shah A,” (said he) “ asouchen good, 

Sith to thee is unknowne the cradle of thy bn>od. 

144 Faerie Queene 

Lxv. “ For,^well 1 wote, thou springst from ancient nice 
Of Saxon kinges^ that have with mightie hand, 

Anf] many hlcjody battailes fought in face, 

High reard their royall throne in Britans land, 

AikI vanqmsht them, unable to withstand: 

J^'rom thence a Faery thee iinwe(‘ting reft, 

'I'hcre as thou slepst in tender swadlmg band, 

And her base Idhn brood there for thee left: 

S^K'h, m(‘n do Chaungelings call, so chaiing’d by Fatries 

Lxvn “ 'J’hence she thee brought into this Faery lond, 

And in an heaped furrow did thee hyde ; 

Where thee a Ploughman all unweeting fond, 

As he his toyU^some teme that wav did guyrle. 

And brought thee up in ploughmans st.ite to byde, 
W'hereof (ieorgos he thee ga\e to name; 

Till priekt with ('ourage, and th\ forii's pryile, 

To J^'aerv court tliou (MiiTst if> sei-k for f.inie, 

And |)r<»\ e thy puissantarmes, as seemesthee best became. 

Lxvil. “ () holy Sire I ” ((juoth he) “ how sIkiII 1 (juight 
'The many f.ivours 1 with thet* have lownd, 

'I'hat hast my name and nation rmIcI aright. 

And t. night the \say that does to lu*a\en iMiwrul! 

'I’lus saide, adowne he looked to the giound 

'I'o have returnd, hut d.i/tMl were his i \ ne 

'rhrough passing brightnes, wiiuh did quite confound 

Ills frcble sem'c, and too cxi'ccdmg sin ne 

So dai ke are ear thlv t hinges c omjiard to things (h\ iiil. 

LWiii. ;\t l.i^t, wluaias himselte he gan to f\ luh 
'bo I na bat k he cast him to ret\ re, 

W ho him ;iuaiti‘d still with pensnt* m\nd. 

(ireat lhanki‘s, arul goodly meed, to that good syre 
He thens de[)artmg gave for his pavius hyre 
So (\ime t(^ I'na, who him io\d to 'sre; 

And. after hlie rest, gan him tles\re 
()t lit'r .id\eulure m\ndfull lor to bee. 

So leave tho> take of Cadia and her d.mghlers thiac. 

Book I — Canto XI 



The k^'ubt with 111 >* .‘1,1 Hr i n ii >Ji’ , 

1 i\ -N inc< ml 1% 

'1 lio llin < 1 him « • \ ort !ir ‘w . .iiui i‘ i v i > 

M> >si -n. 'iix \ ii t , .1 \ 

I TTir.H tun*- imw i^an it \M'\ tor \ n.i Li\ rt* 

1 o ihii’ifvr nl thosf lu r t .!])! i\*( Ihiit nls , Ir.u 
And Ihfir toiwastiil kingdom to itp.i\ri 
\\ lu'rcto will n.i-^ t}i( \ iiDW .ipj>ro. IkmI ih .in*. 

With luirtic wordi s hn km-dit shi lmh to i hi .irr. 
And in her inod* st inani-r llius lu sp.iki 
“ IliMre kniLilit. as di*ar<* as » \cr knu ia was lic.nt 
'I'liat all ihisr siinn\vr> siuft r tor nu s.ike. 

Illgli lu'\ rn behold thr triiioii*- to\ li \i loi nu lake' 

II. “ Now are we i oim unto in\ nati\e sn\ k . 

And to the plai e w here .dl <e;r pt nllcs dwi Ii 

Here haiinti s that feeinl, .ind d'*i s his da\ l\ sp(.\ j( . 

I'herefore, hi ru i torth lx i at \ our kei pin;^ will, 

And e\er read\ for M»ur toi man t» 11 

'rile spaike of noble iiaaiji now awake 
And St r i \ e \ o' 1 1 i \( i 1 li nt si ] t( l o e\( f 1 1 
'That shall \i i \ i rniore lenowmed niak»* 

Abo\e all kmudits on earth, that batti ill nridi rtaki ’’ 

rn. Ami jiointirii: t' ii t h, “ I o ‘ ■ f »ndi r i . ' ( .• i ! hi ^ 

“ Idle br.isi n town , in whi* h ni\ n! di are 
b'or dread of that hu^e fi < nd i mpi i^ond bi , 

\\ hf>m I from far set on th< walks app« are, 

\\ lifjse si^dit m\ ferbli soi de dot h ;; n a 1 1 \ i la ari 
And on the top of all I do e'-p\(* 

'rhe wati hman t\dmL's plail to In an ; 
That,(()ni\ Ikin nt^ ’ ) nnpdit I ha[)j)ily 
L’nto \o’i brinp, to ease \tm of \our misery ” 

IV'. With that they he.inl a roaring' hideous sownd, 

Tdiat all the a\re with terror filled wvde, 

And scernd iineath to sh.ike the sndfast ^rntjura! 

146 The Faerie Queene 

Eftsoones that dreadful Dragon they espyde, 
Wher^stretcht he lay up)on the sunny side 
Of a great hill, himselfe like a great hill; 

But, all so soone as he from far descryde 

Those glistring armes that heven with light did fill, 

He rousll himselfe full blyth, and hastned them until!. 

V. Then badd the knight his Lady yede aloof, 

^d to an hill herselfe withdraw asyde; 

From whence she might behold that battailles proof, 
And eke be safe from daunger far descryde. 

She him obayd, and turned a little wyde. — 

Now, O thou sacred Muse ! most learned Dame, 

Fayre ympe of Phoebus and his aged bryde, 

The Nourse of time and everlasting fame, 

That warlike handes ennoblest with immortall name; 

VI. O! gently come into my feeble brcst; 

Come gently, but not with that mightie rage, 
Wherewith the martiall troupes thou doest infest, 

And hartes of great Heroes doest enrage, 

That nought their kindled coragc may aswage: 

Soone as thy dreadfull trompe begins to sownd. 

The God of warre with his fiers equipage 

Thou doest awake, sleepe never he so sownd ; 

i^Vnd scared nations doest with horror sterne astownd. 

VII. Fayre Goddesse, lay that furious fitt asyde, 

Till I of warres and bloody Mars doe sing. 

And Bryton fieldes with Sarazin blood bedyde, 

Twixt that great faery Queene and Paynirn king. 

That with their horror heven and earth did ring ; 

A worke of labour long, and endlesse prayse: 

But now a while lett downe that haughtie string. 

And to my tunes thy second tenor rayse. 

That I this man of God his godly armes may blaze. 

viir. By this, the dreadful Beast drew nigh to hand, 

Halfe flying and halfe footing in his haste, 

That with his largenesse measured much land. 

And made wide shadow under his huge waste. 

As mountaine doth the valley overcaste, 

Approching nigh, he reared high afore 


Book I — Canto XI 

His body monstrous, horrible, and vnste; 

Which, to increase his wondrous greatnes iftore, 

Was swoln with wrath and poyson,and with bloody gore; 

IX. And over all with brasen scales was armd, 

Like plated cote of steele, so couched neifre 

lliat nought mote perce; ne might his corse bee harmd 

With dint of swerd, nor push of pointed speare: 

Which as an Eagle, seeing pray api)eare. 

His aery plumes doth rou/e, full rudely dight; 

So shaked he, that horror was to heare : 

For as the clashing of an Arhior bright, 

Such noyse his rouzetl scales did send unto the kniglit, 

X. His flaggy winges, when forth he did tli.splay. 

Were like two sayles, in which the hollow* wynd 
Is gathered full, and worketh speedy way: 

And eke the pennes, that diil his pineons bynd. 

Were like maync-yardcs with flying canvas lynd; 

With which whenas him list the ay re to boat. 

And there by force unwonted passage fynd, 

The cloudes before him fledd for terror great. 

And all the hevens stood still amazed with his threat. 

XI. His huge long tayle, wownd up in hundred foldcs, 
Does overspred his long bras-scalv back, 

Whose wreathed boughtes when ever he unfoldcs, 

And thick entangled knots adown does slack, 
Bespotted as with shieldcs of red and blacke. 

It sweepeth all the land behind him farn*, 

And of three furlongs does but litle lac ke; 

And at the point two stinges in fixed arre, 

Both deadly sharp, that sharpest steele cxcecden farre. 

XII. But stinges and sharpest steele did far exceed 
The sharpnesse of his cruel rending clawes: 

Dead was it sure, as sure as death in deed. 

What ever thing does touch his ravenous pawes. 

Or what within his reach he ever drawes. 

But his most hideous head my tongue to tell 
Does tremble; for his deepe devouring jawes 
Wyde gaped, like the gricsiy mouth of hell, 

Through which into his darkc abysse all ravin fell. 

1 48 The Faerie Quccne 

XIII. Anf], that more wondrous was, in eithcT jaw’ 

'J hree ^iiK kes of yrtjn teeth enraiingcfi were. 

In wliu'h yett trn kling blood, and gol)l)ets ra\., 

Of Lite di\oiired bodies did appeare, 

' Slight thereof bredd (old ('on^a-aled fi'are; 

\\ liK h inr, and all atonee to kill. 

A ( loud of sinoothcrin/:^ srnoki*. and siil[)hiire scare, 

Out of his stinkin;r ^'OFve torth steerned still, 

'hiiat all the a\ re about with smoke and stench did fill. 

XIV fils lila/in^^ eves, like* twcj briirht shininLt shieldes, 

I lid burne with wratH, arui sparklc-d Iuiul" tvn . 

As two IL'acoiis, sett in open heM« 

Sencl forth the ir iLinu's off to « \ t i\ shvre, 

And warning’ ;'i\e (‘nimu^s (onsp\rt' 

With lire and sword the neion to iiuade- 
So flam’d his «‘\iic with laec .ind rancorous \ re , 
but far within, ;is in a hollow iiLide, 

'1 hose lai in;4 Li mpe ^ w c 1 e sc‘t t t 11 hide a dreadfllll shad( 

X\ So fhe.idfulK lie* towaides him did [tas, 
horc’liftin^^ u[) .i-loft his spec klecl bre 
\ncl oftt n boundine on llie bruscsl, 

\s for feat j<»\ anc e of hi^ riewc ome |^uest 
Litsoones he- it.m ach aiu e his hue v lit \ c re^t . 

.\s ( h.uillc d 1 ’)' >i e his bristles dot h iijirearc* , 

Ancl sliokc* his sc .lies to Ihitt.iile icacK dre-.t, 

'I'll. It m.idc* the l\ed( lo^se kmeht lu^di cjiuke b»i bariu 
As hiddiiiLt bold detxaunc'e to his foeinan neare. 

X\ L 'hhi- kniuht /^in fa\ rely roue h liis sti .id\ spt .irc*, 

And fu-is('l\ ran at him with iiyoroiis mi^ht: 
riie poinl(.-d sii*elc*, aiii\in^ rudcl\ tlieare. 

Ills haidei h\de would netlicr pen e nor biLdit. 

but, ‘jlLvuwvux- b\ , IvuatU parsed \vw\\atv\ 

\ et soic‘ aiao\(’d with so puissaunt pusli, 

'The wralhlull beast about him turned liulit, 

And him so nideU . {)assm»r l)v, dic .1 brush 

\\ ilh his Iuiil: t.iyle, t hat horse and man to ^TouneJ did rush 

xvir. Jloth horse and man up lij^lilly rose againe. 

And fresh eiiroimter towardes him addrest: 

JJut th’ yrilc stroke yet bac^ke laaoyld in vainc. 

Book I —Canto XI 14 

And found no jiluto hi*' ilf.iiiK jK^>irit to 
FxooodinL: raiio tutliruM tiu- tun. ms Ht-.i/i, 

'I'o lx* a\(um'.l t.f ‘.u i^rtMi 0( spi^ht . 

I-'or no\or 1. li hi- luiin rr.Mhlr |»u -i 
>o woritlroiis ton i t:o:n h.iu.l <»f ’ix iuli \\ 'Liht 
\tthadlit pri)\ tj ihr pnw u- (if m.ipv a ^^'iii--.iu! kui^hl. 

will. I I U 11 , \N 1 1 1 1 his I \ 1 1 1 1 ll ' s V p s J t| I \ (■ t ] \\ \ I 1 1 • ^ 

I liiii-flt(‘ up liipli ht“ ’’ft. I li.mi -im puKiui'. 0 
And \Mth sirnuL: llipht .hd to-< :!>1\ 

1 ho \ It ]( 1 1 .i\ r < whit li n i.* 1 1 loo t<‘» 1 'li I oi j nd 

llor tlittiiiL: aiui oN rht ni unso Tid 

Jo hr. LR- so pn'.it .1 wrii^dit hr ti.lliii" wav 
W till his hiitad s.i\ I. s .ilv. It him s.. u. d Ttumd . 

At List low stoupiM.' with unwild'x w o 

^^na^ ht Uf ) hoi h ht .r -r ant] man lo ht .n » 1 1 o 1 1 j . ji ; uc .i w a \ 

MX I oiiLj lit tin rn ixut .'hi»\(* the siil)|f( j pj fni*. 

.'^o tar .1 ^ 1 wuhrn h. .w .i sh if t m i\ t ml, 

'1 ill MT-umditiL' stT.m ’ <htl li'in ai la t - .'U n.^. ,• 

J'o 1< 1 ih* m d. tw IK lx jt)T(* his Iji. s fiid 
As h iLiard !i ;kr, [»irsumin * t-. < .•iii mi 
With liaiils fowlt .d>'i\f h' hah!* m., lit, 

I I IS w I .1 r .r p< .unc rs .ill m \ nm* i| U h p* ud 

1 ■ t 1 1 ; ' ss( 1 i i( pj a \ l * X t lira \ \ t a 1 1 '* f! ' d i ♦ 

\\ hn h, f < ' 111 nntip d w. M I ' - L' I > m ; . d •' 1 1 * * ' ci '* h lip h t 

\\ Mt: so fh ( i| ot ar pit- 

I. if' ]\ni;lif liP till ilia tif p* ■»» a/ um .i ..i\ d 
I u h: ! »T .1 pla 1 rd ! >. M 1\ i . , i pP i . , 

Audihitt imU' 1 1 * npth uni - i hi inMit h' Ir. *1. 

\\ ill'll w ) 1 ' I I ! t -’Jiff ' If i!'jr ti ' t 1 1 a' at ‘ / I '> d 
And pdaiin* ilia fn rri I, <al. nr* kr i|;d ph. dr 
^ 1 ' ' . ’ll It r i I is 1 * 1 1 w in ' f f i» n ! a . . td f 1 p! i v d 

^ 1 ]'• 1 1 a ip s\ t I V l : 1 * n w i • <" i .i ’ r H i ; h, w *!< . 

' w it ii ihr iim • tu: h smart Mr M^ai ui kiv i <i'. (jt 

XXI. Ill f r\ dr, , IS r.ijinp St as ai I wiaP 

W ht n w intr\ sinrjjif Jus wrathful w * k tjm , tliii at ; 

'l iir rtdlmL: hilltiwts hr.itr thr d hta* 

As thr\ till t'.irth >.]ld sJarildt r frtau h* r -^t-a* 

Anri ^rri d\ s traj)**. as hr wtn Jij < at 

His nriLdibour elcmrnl in In- n r nrr . 

♦ pin' ^ 

150 The Faerie Queene 

Then gin the blustring brethren boldly threat 
To move ^he world from off his stedfast hengc, 

And boystrous battaile make, each other to avenge. 

XXII. The steely head stuck fast still in his flesh. 

Till with hi^ cruell clawes he snatcht the wood. 

And quite a sunder broke. Forth flowed fresh 
A gushing river of blacke gory blood, 

Tha^ drowned all the land whereon he stood ; 

The streame thereof would drive a water-mill : 

Trebly augmented was his furious mood 
With bitter sence of hisrlcepc rooted ill, 

That flames of fire he threw forth from his large nosethril. 

XXIII. His hideous tayle then hurled he about, 

And therewith all enwrapt the nimble thyes 
Of his froth-fomy steed, whose courage stout 
Striving to loose the knott that fast him tyes, 
llimselfe in streighter bandcs too rash implyes, 
lliat to the ground he is perforce constraynd 
To throw his ryder; who can quickly ry se 
From off the earth, with durty blood dist.iynd. 

For that reprochfull fall right fowly he disdaynd; 

XXIV. And fercely tookc his trenchand blade in hand, 

With which he stroke so furious and so fell, 

That nothing seemd the puissaunce could withstand: 
Upon his crest the hardned yron fell. 

But his more hardned crest was arrnd so well, 

That deeper dint therein it would not make; 

Yet so extremely did the buffe him quell, 

That from thenceforth he shund the like to take. 

But when he saw them come he did them still forsake. 

XXV. The knight was wroth to see his stroke beguyld, 

And smot againe with more outrageous might; 

But backe againe the sparcling steele recoyld. 

And left not any marke where it did light. 

As if in Adamant rocke it had beene pight. 

The beast, impatient of his smarting wound 
And of so fierce and forcible despight, 

Thought with his winges to stye above the ground; 

But his late wounded wing unserviceable found. 

Book I — Canto XI 151 

XXVI. Then full of griefe and anguish vehement. 

He lowdly brayd, that like was never /leard; 

And from his wide devouring oven sent 
A flake of fire, that flashing in his l)eiud 
Him all amazd, and almost made af^d: 

The scorching flame sore swinged allmis face, 

And through his armour all his body seard. 

That he could not endure so cruell cace. 

But thought his armes to leave, and helmelfto unlace. 

XXVII. Not that great Champion of the antique world, 

Whom famous Poctes verse so much doth vaunt. 

And hath for twelve huge labours high extold, 

So many furies and shaqxi fits did haunt. 

When him the poysoned garment did enchaunt, 

When Centaures blood and bloody verses charmd ; 

As did this knight twelve thousand dolours daunt, 
Whom fyrie stcele now burnt, that erst him arrnd; 
That erst him goodly armd, now most of all him harmd. 

XXVIII. Faynt, wearie, sore, emboylcd, grieved, brent, 

With heat, toyle, wounds, armes, smart , and inward fire, 
That never man such mischiefes did torment: 

Death better were; death did he oft desire, 

But death will never come when needes rec|uirc. 

Whom so dismayd when that his foe Ixheld, 

He cast to suffer him no more respire, 

But gan his sturdy sterne about to weld, 

And him so strongly stroke, that to the ground him feld. 

XXIX. It fortuned, (as fayre it then l)efcll) 

Bchynd his backe, unweeting, where he stood, 

Of auncient time there was a springing well. 

From which fast trickled forth a silver flood. 

Full of great vertues, and for medVinc good ; 
Whylome, before that cursed Dragon got 
That happy land, and all with innocf-nt blood 
Defy Id those sacred waves, it rightly hot 
The well of life, nc yet his vertues had forgot: 

XXX. For unto life the dead it could restore, 

And guilt of sinfull crimes cleane wash away; 

Those that with sicknesse were infected sore 

152 The Faerie Queene 

It could recure ; and aged long decay 
Renew! as one were borne that very day. 

Both Silo this, and Jordan, did excell. 

And th’ English Bath, and eke the German Spau; 
Ne can Cephise, nor Hebrus, match this well : 

Into theWame the knight back overthrowen fell. 

XXXI. Now gan the golden Phcebus for to steepe 
lUs fierie face in billow'es of the west. 

And his faint steedes watred in Ocean deepe, 

Whiles from their journall labours they did rest; 
When that infernall Monster, having kcst 
His wearie foe into that living well, 

Gan high advaunce his broad discoloured brest 
Above his wonted pitch, with countenance fell, 

And clapt his yron wings as victor he did dwell. 

xxxir. Which when his pensive Lady saw from farre. 

Great woe and sorrow did her soule assay. 

As weening that the sad end of the warre ; 

And gan to highest God entirely pray 
'I'hat feared chaunce from her to turne away: 

With folded hands, and knees full lowly l)ent. 

All night shee watcht, ne once adowne would lay 
Her dainty limbs in her sad drenment, 

But praying still did wake, and waking did lament. 

XXXIII. The morrow next gan earcly to appeare, 

That Titan rose to runne his daily race; 

But earely, ere the morrow next gan rcarc 
Out of the sea faire Titans deawy face, 

Up rose the gentle virgin from her place. 

And looked all about, if she might spy 
Her loved knight to move his manly pace: 

For she had great doubt of his safety, 

Since late she saw him fall before his enimy. 

xxxiv. At last she saw where he upstarted brave 
Out of the well, wherein he drenched lay: 

As Eagle, fresh out of the ocean wave, 

Where he hath lefte his plumes all hory gray, 

And deckt himselfe with fethers youthly gay, 

Like Eyas hauke up mounts unto the skies. 

Book I — Canto XI 


His newly-budded pineons to assay. 

And man^eiles at himselfe stii as he fjes: 

So new this new-bome knight to baUell new did rise. 

XXXV. Whom when the damned feend so fiesi: did spy 
No wonder if he wondred at the sight, 

And doubted whether his late enimy 
It were, or other new supplied knight. 

He now, to prove his late-renewed might. 

High brandishing his bright deaw-biirmng blade. 

Upon his crested scalp ^o sore did smite, 

That to the scull a yawning wound it made: 

The deadly dint his dulled senccs all dismaid. 

XXXVI. 1 wotc not wliether the revenging steele 
Were hardned with that holy waiter <lew 
Wherein he fell, or sharper edge did feelc, 

Or his baptized hands now greater grew, 

Or other secret vertue did ensew; 

Els never could the force of fleshly armc, 

Ne molten mettall, in his blood embu w; 

For till that stownd could never wight him harme 
Piv subtilty, nor slight, nor might, nor mighty clmrrnc. 

xxxvii. The cruell wound enraged him so sore, 

That loud he velh-d for exceeding paine ; 

As hundred ramping Lions seemd to rore, 

Whom ravenous hunger did thereto ronslrainc: 

Then gan he tosse aloft his stretf lied traine, 

And therewith scourge the buxome aire so sore, 

That to his force to yielfien il was fame; 

Ne ought his sturdy strf)kes rniglit sUind afore, 

That high trees overthrew, and nxks in pecres tore. 

xxxviil. The same advaunring high afxivc his hf^ad, 

With sharpe intended sting so rude him .smott, 

That to the earth him drove, as strieken flead; 

Ne living wight would have him life heholt : 

Tlie mortall sting his angry needle shf)tt 

Quite through his shield, and in his shoulder seasd, 

Where fast it stucke, ne would thereout \>c gott: 

The griefe thereof him wondrous sore discasd, 

Ne might his rancling paine with patience l>c appeasd. 

I 54 The Faerie Queene 

XXXIX. But ye^ more mindfull of his honour deare 

Then of\the grievous smart which him did wring, 
From loathed soile he can him lightly reare, 

And strove to loose the far infixed sting: 

Which when in vaine he tryde with struggeling, 
Inflam’d with wrath, his raging blade he hefte, 

And strooke so strongly, that the knotty string 
Of his huge taile he quite a sender clefte; 

Fi^e joints thereof he hewd,and but the stump him lefte. 

XL, Hart cannot thinke w^t outrage and what cries, 

With fowle enfouldred smoake and flashing fire, 

The hell-bred beast threw forth unto the skies, 

That all was covered with darknesse dire: 

Then, fraught with rancour and engorged yrc, 

He cast at once him to avenge for all, 

And, gathering up himselfe out of the mire 

With his uneven wings, did fiercely fall 

Upon his sunne-bright shield, and grypt it fast withall, 

XLi. Much was the man encombred with his hold, 

In feare to lose his weapon in his paw, 

Ne wist yett how his talaunts to unfold; 

Nor harder was from Cerberus greedy jaw 
To plucke a bone, then from his cruell claw 
To reave by strength the griped gage away : 

Thrise he assayd it from his foote to draw. 

And thrise in vaine to draw it did assay; 

It booted nought to thinke to robbe him of his pray, 

XLii. Tho, when he saw no power might prcvaile. 

His trusty sword he cald to his last aid. 

Wherewith he ficrsly did his foe assaile, 

And double blowes about him stoutly laid, 

That glauncing fire out of the yron plaid, 

As sparkles from the Andvile use to fly, 

When heavy hammers on the wedge are swaid : 

Therewith at last he forst him to unty 

One of his grasping feete, him to defend thereby. 

XLiii. The other foote, fast fixed on his shield, 

Whenos no strength nor stroks mote him constrainc 
To loose, ne yet the warlike pledge to yield. 

Book I — Canto XI 155 

He smott thereat with all his might and maine. 

That nought so wondrous puissaiince mj|ht sustaine: 
Upon the joint the lucky stcelc did ligly, 

And made such way that hewd it quite in twainc; 

The paw yett missed not his minisht niight. 

But hong still on the shield, as it at first was pight. 

XLiv. For griefe thereof and divelish despight, 

From his infemall foumacc forth he threw 
Huge flames that dimmed all the hevens light, 

Enrold in duskish smoke jnd brimstone blew: 

As burning Aetna from his Ixjyling stew 

Doth belch out flames, and rockes in poercs broke, 

And ragged ribs of mountaines molten new, 

Enwrapt in coleblarke clowds and filthy smoke, 

Thatal the land with stench and heven with horror choke. 

XLV. The hcate whereof, and harmefull pcstilcnre, 

So sore him noyd, that forst him to retire 
A little backcwarcl for his l)cst defence, 

To save his l)ody from the scorching lire. 

Which he from hellish entrailes did expire. 

It chaunst, (eternall God tlmt chaunce did guide) 

As he recoiled backeward, in the mire 
His nigh forew'eried feeble feet did slide, 

And downe he fell, with dre;id of shame sore terrifide. 

XLVi. There grew a goodly tree him fairc l)esidc, 

Loaden with fruit and apples rosy redd, 

As they in pure vermilion had l>ccn dide, 

Whereof great vertues over-all were redd ; 

For happy life to all which thereon fedd, 

And life eke everlasting did befall: 

Great God it planted m that blessed stedd 

With his Almighty hand, and did it call 

The tree of life, the crime of our first fathers fall. 

XLVI I. In all the world like was not to be fownd, 

Save in that soile, where all good things did grow, 

And freely sprong out of the fruitfull grownd. 

As incorrupted Nature did them .sow, 

Till that dredd Dragon all did overthrow. 

Another like fairc tree eke grew thereby. 

156 The Faerie Queene 

Whereof whoso did eat, eftsoones did know 
Both g^od and ill. O moumfull memory! 

That trqp through one mans fault hath doen us all to dy. 

XLViii. From that first tree forth flowd, as from a well, 

A trickling streame of Balme, most soveraine 
And dainty deare, which on the ground still fell, 

And overflowed all the fertile plaine, 

^ it had deawed bene with timely raine: 

Life and long health that gracious ointment gave, 

And deadly wounds could heale, and reare againe 
The scncelesse corse appointed for the grave: 

Into that same he fell, which did from death him save. 

XLix. For nigh thereto the ever damned Beast 

Durst not approch, for he was deadly made, 

And al that life preserved did detest; 

Yet he it oft adventur’d to invade. 

By this the drouping day-light gan to fade, 

And yield his rowme to sad succeeding night, 

Who with her sable mantle gan to shade 
The face of earth and waves of living wight, 

And high her burning torch set up in heaven bright. 

L. When gentle Una saw the second fall 
' Of her deare knight, who, weary of long fight 

And faint through losse of blood, moov’d not at all, 
But lay, as in a dreamc of deepe delight, 

Besmeard with pretious Balme, whose vertuoiis might 
Did heale his woimdes, and scorching heat alay; 
Againe she stricken was with sore affright, 

And for his safe tie gan devoutly pray. 

And watch the noyous night, and wait for joyous day. 

LI. The joyous day gan early to appcarc ; 

And fay re Aurora from the deawy bed 
Of aged Tithone gan hcrselfe to reare 
With rosy cheekes, for shame as blushing red: 

Her golden locks for hast were loosely shed 
About her cares, when Una her did marke 
Clymbe to her charet, all with flowers spred. 

From heven high to chace the cliearelesse darke ; 

With mery note her lowd salutes the mounting larke. 

Book I — Canto XI 

Lii. Then freshly up arose the doughty knight, 

All healed of his hurts and woundes wide 
And did himselfe to battaile ready dight" 

Whose early foe awaiting him l>eside 
To have devourd, so soone iis day he spvdr. 

VN'hen now he saw himselfe so freshl>' reire, 

As if late fight had nourht him damnifyde, 

He woxe dismaid, and gaii his hiie to feare: 

Nathlcssc with wonted rage he him ad van need s^arc. 

Liii. And in his first encounter, piping wv«le, 

He thought attonce him to have swalh)wd quight, 

And rusht upon him with outr;igious prv<le ; 

Who him rcncountring fien e, jis h.iuke m flight, 
Perforce relnitted backe. The weapon bright, 

Taking advantage of his o|K‘n jaw, 

Ran through his iiBuith with so importune might, 
That deepe emperst his darksom hollow maw, 

And, back ret\ rd, his life blood forth with all did draw. 

Liv. So downe he fell, and forth his life did breath, 

That vanisht into smoke and clondes swift; 

So downe he fell, that tlT earth him underneath 
Did grone, as feeble so great load to lift; 

So downe he fell, as an huge rocky ilift, 

Whose false fi)iinda(’ion waves have washt awav, 

With dreadfull poyse is from the mavn« land rift, 

And rolling downe great N('ptune doth dismay: 

So downe he fell, and like an hca|KMl mounlaine lay/ 

LV. The knight him selfe even trembled at his fall, 

So huge and horrible a m;isse it seemd; 

And his deare Lady, that l>cheld it all, 

Durst not approch for dread which she misdeemd; 

But yet at last, whenas the direfull feend 
She saw not stirre, oflf-shaking vainc affright 
She nigher drew, and saw that joyous end : 

Then God she pravsd, and thankt her faithfull knight, 
ITiat had atchievdc so great a conquest by his might. 


The Faerie Queene 


Fayrc Una to the Redcrosse Knight 
Betrouthed is with joy: 

Though Jalse Duessa, it to barre, 

Her false sleigh tes doe imploy. 

I. Behold 1 I see the haven nigh at hand 

To which I meane my'wearie course to bend; 

Vere the maine shete, and bearc up with the land, 

To which afore is fayrly to be kend, 

And seemeth safe from storms that may offend ; 

There this fay re virgin wearie of her way 
Must landed bee, now at her journcyes end ; 

There eke my feeble barke a while may stay, 

Till mery wynd and weather call her thence away. 

II. Scarsely had Phcebus in the glooming East 
Yett harnessed his fyric-footed teeme, 

Ne reard above the earth his flaming creast. 

When the last deadly smoke aloft did steeme. 

That signe of last outbreathed life did sceme 
Unto the watchman on the castle-wall; 

Who thereby dead that balefull Beast did deeme. 

And to his Lord and Lady lowd gan call, 

To tell how he had scene the Dragons fatall fall. 

III. Uprose with hasty joy, and feeble speed, 

ILiat aged S>Te, the Lord of all that land, 

And looked forth, to weet if trew indeed 
Those tydinges were, as he did understand : 

Which whenas trew by tryall he out fond, 

He badd to open wyde his brasen gate. 

Which long time had beene shut, and out of hond 
Procla>’med joy and peace through all his state ; 

For dead now was their foe, which them forrayed late. 

IV. Then gan triumphant Trompets sownd on hye. 

That sent to heven the ecchoed report 

Of their new joy, and liappie victory 


Book I — Canto XII 

Gainst him, that had them long opprest with tort, 
And fast imprisoned in sieged fort. 

Then all the p>eople, as in solemne feast, 

To him assembled with one full consort, 

Rcjoycing at the fall of that great Lx*ast,| 

From whose eternall bondage now thy were rcleast. 

V. Forth came that auncicnt I^rd, and aged Quccnc, 
Arayd in antique robes downe to the grownd, 

And sad habiliments right well bescene: 

A noble crew about them waitcil rowiul 
Of sage and sober peres, all gravely gownd ; 

Whom far before did march a gootlly band 
Of tall young men, all hable annes to sownd ; 

But now they laurell braunches bore in hantl, 

Glad signe of victory and peace in all their land, 

VI. Unto that doughtie Conquerour they came, 

And him before themselves prostrating low, 

Their Lord and Patrone loud did him proclaine, 

And at his feet their lawrell boughes did throw, 

Soone after them, all dauncing on a row, 

The comely virgins came, with girlands dight. 

As fresh as flowres in medow greenc doe grow 
When morning deaw upon their leaves doth light ; 

And in their handes sweet Timbrels all upheld on hight. 

vir. And them before the fry of children yong 

Their wanton spiortes and childish mirth did play, 

And to the May dens sownd ing tymbrcls song 
In well attuned notes a joyous lay, 

And made delightfull musick all the way, 

Untill they came where that faire virgin stood: 

As fayre Diana in fresh summers day 
Beholdes her nymphes enraung’d in shady wood, 

Some wrestle, some do run, some bathe in christall flood. 

VIII. So she beheld those maydens mcriment 

With chearefuU vew; who, when to her they came, 
Themselves to ground with gracious humblessc bent. 
And her ador’d by honorable name. 

Lifting to heven her everlasting fame: 

Then on her head they sett a girlond greene, 

i6o The Faerie Queene 

And crowned her twixt earnest and twixt game : 

Who, inlher self-resemblance well beseene, 

Did seerie, such as she was, a goodly maiden Queene, 

IX. And aftei^all the raskall many ran, 

Heaped together in rude rablement, 

To see the face of that victorious man. 

Whom all admired as from heaven sent, 

Ahd gazd upon with gaping wonderment; 

But when they came where that dead Dragon lay, 
Strctcht on the grouncj in monstrous large extent, 

'Fhe sight with ydle feare did them dismay, 

Ne durst approch him nigh to touch, or once assay. 

X. Some feard, aiul flcdd; some feard, and well it faynd; 
One, that would wiser seeme then all the rest, 

Warnd him not touch, for yet perhaps remay nd 
Some lingring life within his hollow brest, 

Or in his wombe might lurke some hidden nest 
Of many Dragonettes, his fruitfull seede: 

Another saide, that in his eyes did rest 

Yet sparckling fyre, and bade! thereof take heed; 

Another said, he saw him move his eyes indeed. 

XI. One mother, whenas her foolohardy chyld 
Did come too neare, and with his talants play, 

Halfc dead through feare, her litlc babe rev\ KI, 

And to her gossibs gan in counsel! say ; 

“ How can I tell, !)ut that his talants may 
Yet scratch my sonne, or rend his tendtT hand? 

So diversly them selves m vaine they fray ; 

Whiles some more bold to measure him mgli stand, 

To prove how many acres he did spred of land. 

XII. Thus flocked all the folke him rownd about: 

The whiles that hoarie king, with all his trainc. 

Being arrived where that champion stout 
After his foes defeasaunce did remaine, 

Him goodly greetes, and fayre does entertayne 
With princely gifts of yvory and gt)ld, 

And thousand thankes him yecldes for all his painc. 
Then when his daughter deare he does behold, 

Her dearely doth imbrace, and kisseth manifold. 

Book I — Canto XII i6i 

XIII. And after to his Pallace he them hringes, 

With shaiimes, and trompets, and witii Clarions sweet; 
And all the way the joyous people singes/ 

And with their garments strowes the pavefl street : 
Whence mounting up, they fynd purveyaunce meet 
Of all, that royal! Princes court lK‘camc," 

And all the floore was underneath their feet 
Bespredd with costly scarlott of great name, 

On which they lowly sitt, and fitting purpose fcMmc. 

XIV. What needcs me tell their feast and goodly guize. 

In which was nothing riototis nor \ aine? 

What needes of dainty dishes to devi/e, 

Of comely services, or courtly trayne? 

My narrow leaves cannot in them contivne 
The large discourse of roiall Princes state. 

\'et was their manner then hut hare and playno; 

For th’ antKiue world excesse and pr\ de did hale: 

Such proud luxurious pompe is swollen uj) hut late. 

XV. Then, when with meates and drinkes of e\ery kinde 
Their fervent apixitites they (jueiuhed had, 

That auncient I^ird fit oeeasion finde, 

Of straungc adventures, and of jxinls sail 
Which in his travel! him Ix*fallen had. 

For to demaund of his renowrned guest: 

Who then with utt'r.inre grave, and I'ount’nanec sad, 
From poynt to poynt, as is Ix-fore expresl, 

Discourst his voviige long, ai < ording his refjuest. 

xvi. Great pleasure, mixt with pittiful regard, 

'I’hat godly King and Quecne did passionate, 

Whyles they his pittifull adventures heard; 

That oft they difi lament his st.ite. 

And often blame the too importune fate 
That heapd on him so many wrathfull wreakes; 

For never gentle knight, as he of late. 

So tossed was in fortunes cruell freakes: 

And all the while salt tearcs Ixjdcawd the hearers chcaks. 

XVII. Then sayd that royall Pere in sober wise ; 

** Deare Sonne, great beene the evils which ye bore 
From first to last in your late enterprise. 

i 62 

The Faerie Queene 

That I note whether praise or pitty more ; 

For never living man, I weene, so sore 
In seapf deadly daungers was distrest: 

But since now safe ye seised have the shore. 

And w^l arrived are, (high God be blest !) 

Let us devize of ease and everlasting rest” 

XVIII. “ Ah dearest Lord ! ” said then that doughty knight, 
Of ease or rest I may not yet devize ; 

For by the faith which I to armes have plight, 

I bownden am streight after this emprize, 

As that your daughtbr can ye well advize, 

Backe to retourne to that great Faery Queene, 

And her to serve sixe yeares in warlike wize, 

Gainst that proud Paynim king that works her tcene: 
Therefore I ought crave pardon, till I there have beene/* 

XIX. “ Unhappy falls that hard necessity,'^ 

(Quoth he) “ the troubler of my happy peace, 

And vowed foe of my felicity; 

Ne I against the same can justly preace: 

But since that band ye cannot now release, 

Nor doen undo, (for vowes may not be vayne) 

Soone as the termc of those six yeares shall cease, 

Ye then shall hither backe retourne agayne, 

The marriage to accomplish vowd betw ixt you twayn. 

XX. “ Which, for my part, I covet to performe 
In sort as through the world I did proclame, 

That who-so kild that monster most deforme. 

And him in hardy battyle overcame, 

Should have mine onely daughter to his Dame, 

And of my kingdome heyre apparaunt l>ee : 

Therefore, since now' to thee perteyncs the same 
]iy dew desert of noble chevalree. 

Both daughter and eke kingdome lo! I yield to thee.” 

XXI. Then forth he called that his daughter fayre. 

The fairest Un\ his oncly daughter deare, 
llis onely daughter and his only hayre; 

Who forth proceeding with sad sober cheare, 

As bright as doth the morning starre appeare 
Out of the East, with flaming lockes bedight, 

Book I — Canto XII 163 

To tell that dawnincf day is drawing nearc, 

And to the wt^rld does bring long-wislied light: 

So faire and fresh that Liidy shewd her/*lfe in sight. 

XXII. So faire and fresh, as freshest flow re iii May; 

For she had layd her mournefull stole liside. 

And widow-likc sad wimple throwne away, 

^\’herew'ith her heavenly Ix'autie she dal hide, 

VV’hilcs on her wearie joiirne\ she ilul riile : 

And on her now a garment siie did weare 
All hlly white, withoiitten spot or pnde. 

That secmd like silke ancVsiUer wo\en ne.ire : 

But neither silke nor silver therein tlid apjXMre. 

XXIII. The blazing briglUnesse of her IxMiilies l)t“amc, 

And glorious light of her siinshyny fare. 

To tell were as to strive against tlie streame: 

My ragged rimes arc all t«)o nide and biiee 
Her heavenly line4iments for to en< ha«'<*. 

Nc wonder; for her own <leare loved knight, 

All were she daily with liimselfe in plare, 

Did wonder much at her celestial sight; 

Oft had he scene her fain.*, but ne\i r so faire (light. 

XXIV. So faircly flight when she in presenre r.irnc, 

She to licr Syre made humble n*verenee, 

And bowed low, th^it her right well l>e(ame, 

And adder! grac e unto her ex* ellenre : 

Who w'lth great wisedome and grave elocpienrc 
Thus gan to s.iy Hut, eare he thus had sayd, 

With flying sjxede, and seeming great pretence, 

Came running in, much like a disrnayd, 

A Messenger with letters, which his message sayd. 

XXV. All in the open hall arnivzcd stood 

At suddeinnessc of that unwary sight, 

And wondred at his brealhlesse hasty moorl: 

But he for nought w'ould stay his pivssage right, 

Till fast before the king he did alight; 

W here falling flat great humblesse he did make, 

And kist the ground whereon his foot was pight; 

Then to his handcs that writt he did Ixitakc, 

Which he disclosing read thus, as the paper spake : 

164 The Faerie Queene 

XXVI. “ To thee, most mighty king of Eden fayre. 

Her greeting sends in these sad lines addrest 
The ^full daughter and forsaken heyre 
Of thaV great Emperour of all the West; 

And bids thee be advized for the best, 

Ere thou thy daughter linck, in holy band 
Of wedlocke, to that new unknowen guest: 

For he already plighted his right hand 
'^Unto another love, and to another land. 

XXVII. “ To me, sad mayd, or rather widow sad. 

He was affyaunced long time before, 

And sacred pledges he both gave, and had, 

False erraunt knight, infamous, and forswore ! 
Witnesse the burning Altars, which he swore. 

And guilty heavens of his bold perjury; 

Which though he hath polluted oft of yore. 

Yet I to them for judgement just doe fly, 

And them conjure t’avenge this shamefull injury. 

XXVIII. ** Therefore, since mine he is, or free or bond, 

Or false, or trew, or living or else dead. 

Withhold, O soverayne Prince! your hasty bond 
From knitting league with him, I you aread; 

No weene my right with strength adowne to tread, 
Through weaknesse of my widowhed or woe ; 

For truth is strong her rightfull cause to plead. 

And shall fmde friends, if need requireth soe. 

So bids thee well to fare. Thy neither friend nor foe, 

XXIX. When he these bitter byting wordes had red. 

The tydings straungc did him abashed make, 

That still he sate long time astonished, 

As in great muse, ne word to creature spake. 

At last his solemn silence thus he brake, 

With doubtfull eyes fast fixed on his guest: 

“ Redoubted knight, that for mync only sake 
Thy life and honor late adventurest, 

Let nought be hid from me that ought to be exprest. 

XXX. “ What meane these bloody vowes and idle threats, 
Throwne out from womanish impatient mynd? 

What hevens? what altars? \\hat enraged heates, 

Book I — Canto XII 165 

Here heaped up with termes of love unkynd, 

My conscience cleare with guilty bands would bynd? 
High God be wilnesse that I guiltlesK ame; 

But if yourselfe, Sir knight, ye fault/ fynd, 

Or wrapped be in loves of former Dame, 

With cryme doe not it cover, but disclose the same.** 

XXXI. To whom the Redcrosse knight this answere sent: 

“ My Lord, my king, be nought hcreat disiaAyd, 

Till well ye wote by grave intendiment, 

What woman, and wherefore, doth me upbrayd 
With breach of love aifd loialty belraytl. 

It was in my mishaps, as hitherward 

I lately traveild, that unwares 1 strayd 

Out of my way, through penis strannge and hard, 

That day sliould faile me ere I had them all dcclard. 

XXXII. “ There did I find, or rather 1 was fownd 
Of this false woman that Kidessa hight, 
hidessa hight the falsest Dame on grownd, 

Most false Duessa, royall ra hly (light, 

Tliat easy was t’ inveigle weaker sight: 

W ho by her wi( ked arts and w\ he skill, 

Too false and .strong for earthlv skill or might, 

I 'nwares me wrought unto lu r wu ked will, 

And to my foe belrayd when h ast I fearial ill.” 

xxxili. Then stepped forth the goodly rovall Mavd, 

And on the ground lurselfe prostrating low, 

W'lth sober countenance thus to him sayd: 

“ O! pardon me, my soveraine Lcird, to sheow 
The secret treason^, winc h of late I know 
To have bene wrought by that false sorreicssc: 

Shoe, oncly she, it is, th<it earst did throw 
I’his gentle kniglit into so great distresse. 

That death him did awaite in dailv wretchedncssc. 

XXXiv. “ And now it ^eernes, that she sulxjrned hath 
This crafty messenger with letters vain('. 

To worke new woe and improvided scath, 

By breaking of the band Ix'twixt us twainc; 

Wherein she used hath the practicke jiaine 
Of this false footman, clokt with simplenesse, 

1 66 The Faerie Queene 

Whome if ye please for to discover plaine, 

Ye shall him Archimago find, I ghesse, 

The falsist man alive: who tries, shall find no lesse.” 

XXXV. The kingtwas greatly moved at her speach; 

And, all with sudden indignation fraight, 

Bad on that Messenger rude hands to reach. 

Eftsooncs the Gard, which on his state did wait, 
Attacht that faytor false, and bound him strait, 

Who seeming sorely chauffed at his band, 

As chained beare whom cruell dogs doe bait, 

With ydle force did fame them to withstancl, 

And often semblaiincc made to scape out of their hand. 

xxxvi. But they him layd low in dungeon deepc, 

And bound him hand and foote with yron chains; 

And with continual watch did warely kcepe. 

Who then would thinke that by his subtile trains 
He could escape fowlc death or deadly pains 
Thus, when that I’rinc'es wrath was pacifide, 

He gan renew the late forbidden bains, 

And to the knight his daughter dcare he tyde 
With sacred rites and vow'cs for ever to abyde. 

XXXVII. His owne two hands the holy knotts did knitt. 

That none but death for ever can divide; 

His owne two hands, for such a turne most fitt. 

The housling fire did kindle and provide, 

And holy water thereon sprinckled wide: 

At which the bushy Teade a groome did light, 

And sacred lamp in secret chamber hide, 

Where it should not be quenched day nor night. 

For feare of evil fates, but burnen ever bright. 

XXXVIII. Then gan they sprinckle all the posts with wine. 

And made great feast to solemnize that day; 

They all perfumde with frankincense divine. 

And precious odours fctcht from far away, 

That all the house did sweat with great aray: 

And ail the while sweete Musicke did apply 
Her curious skill the warbling notes to play. 

To drive away the dull Melancholy; 

The whiles one sung a song of love and jollity. 

Bcok I — Canto XII 


XXXIX. During the which there was an heavenly noise 
Heard sownd through all the Piillaco [)leasantly, 
Like as it had bene many an Angel| voice 
Singing before th* eternall maji^tyl 
In their trinall triplicities on liye: I 
Yett wist no creature whence that nevenly sweet 
Proceeded, yet each one felt secit‘tly 
Himselfc thereby refle of his sences meet, 

And ravished with rare impression m his jj^ite. 

XL. Great jov was made tliat day of young and ohl, 
And solemne feast prflela\md tliroughoiit the land, 
That their exceeding merth mav not be told: 
Sulhee it luiire b\ signe*' to understand 
The usuall j<»\es at knitting of loves band. 

*rhrise Iiappy man the knight hiniselfi' did hold, 
Possessed of his Ladies hart and hand, 

And ever, when his eie did her behold. 

His heart did seeine to melt m pleasures manifold. 

XU. Her joyous presence*, and swee't e'ompany, 

In full content he there did long enjoy; 

\e wK'ked envv, ne mIc gealosv, 

His deare de'Iights were* liable to anneiy: 

Vet, swimnnne in that sea of blisfull jov, 

He noui:ht foreegt liow' he whilorm* had swnrne, 

In east he could that monstrous beast destrov, 

I nto his Idiery Queene* ba^ ke to ri*toiirne; 

The whi( li he .short!) di<l, and Lna left to mourne 

XLII. Now, strike your sailes, yee jolly Manners, 

J*’or we be come unto a quiet rorle. 

Where we must land some of our passengers, 

And light this weary vessell of her l«»de: 

Here she .1 wliile may make he*r safe abode, 

Till she repaired have her tackles spent, 

And wants siipphde; And then agame abroad 
On tlie lr»ng \<>iage whereto she is [)ent. 

Well may she speede, and faircly finish her intent I 


Temper A i;nce 

I. Right well T woto, nios^ mij:hty Sovcrainc, 

That all this famous antique history 

Of some th’ ahoundance of an ydlc hrainc 
Will judj^ed he, and painted forgery, 

Rather then matter of just memory ; 

Sith none that hreatheth livinj» aire does know 
Where is that happy land of Fa< ry, 

Which I so much doc vaunt, yet no where ‘‘how, 
lint vouch antiquities, \Nhich no body can know. 

II. But let that man with better sen(‘e a<lvize, 

That of the world least part to us is red; 

And daily how throu^di hardy cntcrpn/c 
Many gre*it Re/<ions are discovered, 

Which to late ai^e were never mentioned. 

Who ever heanl of th' Inclian l\ ru? 

Or who in venturous vessell measured 
'Fhe Amazon huu:e river, now found trew? 

Or fruit fullest \’ir;;inia who did ever vew? 

III. N'et all these were, when no man did them know, 

Yet have from w’iscst a;j:cs hidden beene; 

And later times thin;jes more unknowne shall show. 
Why then should wiiles-jc man so much misweene. 
That is but that whu l» he hath scene? 

What if within the Moones favre shining sphearc, 
What if in every other starre unseenc 
Of other worUlf-s he happily should heare. 

He wonder would much more; yet such to someappcarc. 

IV. Df faery lond yet if he more in(pj}Te, 

Bv certain signes, here sett in sondrie place, 

He may it fynd; ne let him then admyre, 


170 The Faerie Queene 

But yield his sence to bee too blunt and bace, 

That no’te’iwithout an hound fine footing trace. 

And thou, 0 fayrest Princesse under sky ! 

In this fayrl mirrhour maist behold thy face, 

And thine olvne realmes in lond of Faery, 

And in this antique ymage thy great auncestry. 

V. Th^hich 0 ! pardon me thus to enfold 
In chvert vele, and wrap in shadowes light. 

That feeble eyes your glory may behold. 

Which ells could not endure those beames bright, 

But would bee dazled with exceeding light. 

0 ! pardon, and vouchsafe with patient eare 
The brave adventures of this faery knight. 

The good Sir Guyon, gratiously to heare ; 

In whom great rule of TempVaunce goodly doth appeare. 

Book II — Canto I 


Cinvon, bv Archiniago abu^. 

The Redcrossc knight aw a vies; 

Fynde«^ Mi^rdant and Ain ivia sl.nne 
Willi ploASurc'i poistAird liAvles. 

I. That conning Architect of cancred guyle, 

Whom Princes late displeasure left in liands, 

For falsed letters and suborned wylc, 

Soone as the Reclcrosse knight he understands 
To beene departed out of Kden landes, 

To serve againe his soveraine Klfin Quccnc, 

His artes he moves, and out of caytives luindcs 
Himsclfe he frees by secret mcanes unsccne; 

His shackles emptie Icftc, himselfe escaped clcenc. 

II. And forth he fares, full of malicious mynd, 

To worken mischiefe, and avenging wrie, 

Where ever he that godly knight may fynd, 

His onely hart-sore, and his onely foe; 

Sith Una now he algates must forgoe. 

Whom his victorious hantles did carst restore 
To native crowne and kingdom late ygoe ; 

Where she enjoyes sure peace for evermore, 

As wetherbeaten ship arryvM on happie shore. 

III. Him therefore now the object of his spight 
And deadly food he makes: him to offend. 

By forged treason or by open fight, 

He seekes, of all his drifle the aymed end: 

Thereto his subtile engins he does bend, 

His practick witt and his fayre fyled tonge, 

With thousand other sleightcs; for well he kend 
His credit now in doubtfull hallaunce hong: 

For hardly could bee hurt who was already stong. 

IV. Still as he went he craftic stales did lay, 

With cunning traynes him to entrap unwarcs, 

And privy spyals plast in all his way, 


The Faerie Queene 

To weete what course he takes, and how he fares, 

To ketch Jiim at a vauntage in his snares. 

But now fi.) wise and wary was the knight 
By tryall of his former harmes and cares. 

That he descryde and shonned still his slight: 

The fish that once was caught new bait wil hardly byte. 

V. N^th'lesse th’ Enchaunter would not spare his payne, 
In hope to win occasion to his will ; 

Which when he long awaited had in vayne, 

He chaungd his mynd from one to other ill; 

For to all good he cnimy was still. 

Upon the way him fortuned to meete, 

Fayre marching underneath a shady hill, 

A goodly knight, all armd in hamesse meete, 

That from his head no place appeared to his fee to. 

VI. His carriage was full comely and upright; 

His countenance demure and temperate; 

But yctt so Sterne and terrible in sight, 

That chcard his friendes, and did his foes amate: 

He was an Elfin borne of noble state 
And mickle worship> in his native land ; 

Well could he tourney, and in lists debate, 

And knighthood tooke of good Sir Huons hand, 

When with king Oberon he came to Faery land. 

VII. Him als accompanyd upon the way 
A comely Palmer, clad in black attyre, 

Of rypest y cares, and heares all hoarie gray. 

That with a staffe his feeble steps did stire, 

I^ast his long way his aged limbos should tire: 

And, if by lookes one may the mind aread. 

He seemd to be a sage and sober syre ; 

And ever with slow pace the knight did lead, 

Who taught his trampling steed with equall steps to tread. 

VIII. Such whenas Archimago them did view. 

He weened well to worke some uncouth wyle: 

Eftsoones untwisting his deceiptfull clew. 

He gan to weave a web of wicked guyle. 

And, with faire countenance and flattering style 
To them approaching, thus the knight bespake; 

Book II — Canto I 173 

“ Fay re sonne of ^fars, that sceke with ^varlike spovle. 
And great atchievments, great your selfe to make/ 

\ ouchsafe to stay your steed for humble^iisers Siikc/* 

IX. He stayd his steed for humble misers sale, 

And badd tell on the tenor of lus playnt: 

Who feigning then in everv limb to quake 
Through inward feare. and setaning p.ile and favnt, 

With piteous mone his pereing speach gan pavirf! 

“ Deare I^idy! l\ow shall I dn lare thy tare, 

Whom late I left in languorous ronslraynt? 

Would (iod! lh\ selfe now prest*nt were in pl.irr 
To tell this ruefull tale: thy sight rould win thft* grace. 

X. “ Or rather would, O! woultl it so h.ul t haunsl, 

That you, most noble Sir, liad present bcenr 
When that lewd r>bauld. with vn le lust ailvaunst, 

I^id first his lilthie hands on virgin elerne, 

To sixiyle her dainty corps, so faiit' and sheene 
As on the eartli, great mother of us all, 

With living eye more fay re was never scene 
Of chastity and honour virginal): 

Witnes, ye lieavens, whom slie in vaine to helj> did rail.” 

XI. “ How may it he,” .siiyd then the knight halfe wroth, 

” That knight should knighthood ever so have shent? ” 

“ None but tluit saw,”(c|iioth he) ” would wi c-nc fur troth, 
How shamefully that Mayd he did torment: 

Her looser golden lorkcs he rudely rent, 

And drew her on the ground ; and his sharpe sword 
Against her snowy brest he fierrcly Ix*nt, 

And threatned death with many a hkifxlie worrl: 

Tounge hates to tell the rest that eye to see abhord.” 

XII. Therewith amoved from his sober mood, 

** And lives he yet,” (said he) “ that wrought this ac t ? 
And doen the heavens afford him viUill food.^ ” 

‘‘ He lives,” (quoth he) “ and Ixjasteth of the fact, 

Ne yet hath any knight his courage crack t.” 

“ Where may tlmt treachour then,” (.s;iyd he) ” be found, 
Or by what meanes may I his footing tract? ” 

“ That shall I shew,” (sayd he) ” as sure as hound 

The stricken Deare doth chalcnge by the bleeding wound/' 


174 The Faerie Queene 

XIII. He stayd not lenger talke, but with fierce yre 
And zealous haste away is quickly gone 

To seexe that knight, where him that crafty Squyre 
Suppoi to be. They do arrive anone 
Where sate a gentle Lady all alone, 

With garments rent, and heare discheveled, 
Wringing her handes, and making piteous mone: 

^ Her swollen eyes were much disfigured, 

And her faire face with teares was fowly blubbered. 

XIV. The knight, approching nigh, thus to her said: 

“ Fayre Lady, through fowle sorrow ill bedight, 
Great pi tty is to see you thus dismayd, 

And marre the blossom of your beauty bright: 
For-thy appease your griefe and heavy plight. 

And tell the cause of your conceived payne ; 

For, if he live that hath you doen despight, 
lie shall you doe dew recompence agayne, 

Or els his wrong with greater puissance maintiinc.” 

XV. \Miich when she heard, as in despightfull wise 
She wilfully her sorrow did augment, 

And off red hope of comfort did despise: 

Her golden lockes most cruelly she rent. 

And scratcht her face with ghastly dreriment; 

Ne would she speake, ne see, ne yet be scene, 

But hid her visage, and her head downe bent, 

Either for grievous shame, or for great teene. 

As if her hart with sorrow had transfixed beenc: 

XVI. Till her that Squyre bespake: “ Madame, my liefe. 
For Gods deare love be not so wilfull bent, 

But dc»e vouchsafe now to receive reliefc, 

The which good fortune doth to you present. 

For what bwtes it to weepe and to wayment 
When ill is chaunst, but doth the ill increase, 

And the wcake minde with double woe torment? ” 
When she her Squyre heard speake, she gan appease 
Her voluntarie paine, and feele some secret case. 

XVII. Eftsoone she said ; “ Ah ! gentle trustie Squyre, 
What comfort can I, wofull wretch, conccave? 

Or why should ever I henceforth desyre 


Book II — Canto I 

To see faire heavens face, and life not leave, 

Sith that false Traytour did my honour reave? 

** False traytour certes,^* (saide the Fa/rie knight) 

** I read the man, that ever would deriave 
A gentle Lady, or lier wrong through might: 

Death were too litic paine for such a fowle dcspight. 

XVIII. But now, fayre I^idy, comfort to you make, ^ 

And read who hath \o wrought this shamcfulf plight, 
That short revenge the man may o\ eriake, 

Where-so he he, and soone upon him light.” 

“ Certes,” (saide she) ” Twote not how he hight, 

But under him a gray steede he <lid witdd. 

Whose sides with dapled cm les wen n flight; 

Upright he rode, and in his silver shield 

He bore a hloodie ( *n)ssc that qiiai tree! all the fieKl.” 

XIX. ” Now by my head,’* (saide (iuyon) ” much I muse, 
How that same knight shoukl doe so fowli‘ amis, 

Or ever gentle Dainzoll so abuse: 

For, may I boldly say, he surely is 
A right good knight, and trew of worfl ywis: 

I present was, and can it witnesse well, 

When armes he swore, and streight diii cntcrpri.s 
Th* adventure of the Krrant damozxdl ; 

In which he hath great glory wonne, as 1 hearc tell. 

XX. “ Nathlcssc he shortly shall againe be tryde, 

And fairely quit him of th’ imputed blame; 

Els, be yc sure, he dcarely shall abyde, 

Or make you good amendment for the same: 

All wrongs hav^e mendes, but no amendes of shame. 
Now therefore, I.;uly, rise out of your paine, 

And see the salving of your blf)tted name.” 

Full loth she seemd thereto, but yet did fainc, 

For she was inly gkid her purpose so to gaine. 

XXI. Her purpose was not such as she did faine, 

Ne yet her person such as it was scene ; 

But under simple shew, and semblant plainc, 

Lurkt false Due.ssa secretly unsccnc. 

As a chaste Virgin that had wronged becne: 

So had false Archimago her disguysd, 

176 The Faerie Queene 

To cloke her guile with sorrow and sad teene; 

And eke himselfe had craftily devisd 

To be heA Squire, and do her service well aguisd. 

XXII. Her, late ferlorne and naked, he had found 
Where she did wander in waste wildcrnesse. 

Lurking in rockes and caves far under ground, 

A^d with grccne mosse covering her nakednesse 
To hide her shame and loathly filthinesse, 

Sith her Prince Arthur of proud ornaments 
And borrowed Ixiauty sjpoyld. Her nathelcsse 
Th’ enchaunter finding fit for his intents 
Did thus revest, and deckt with dew habiliments, 

XXIII. For all he did was to deceive good knights, 

And draw them from pursuit of praise and fame 
To slug in slouth and sensuall delights, 

And end their daies with irrenowmed shame. 

And now exceeding griefe him overcame, 

To see the Rcdcrosse thus advaunced hye; 

Therefore this craftie engine he did frame, 

Against his praise to stirre up enmitye 
Of such, as vertues like mote unto him allye. 

XXIV. So now he Guyon guydes an uncouth way 

Through woods and mountaines, till they came at last 
Into a pleasant dale that lowly lay 
Betwixt two hils, whose high heads ovorplast 
The valley <lid with coolc shade overcast: 

Through midst thereof a little river rold, 

By which there sate a knight with helme unlaste, 
Himselfe refreshing with the liquid cold, 

After his travell long and labours manifold. 

XXV. “ Lo ! yonder he,^’ cryde Archimage alowd, 

“ That wrought the shamcfull fact which I did shew; 
And now he doth himselfe in secret shrowd. 

To fly the vengeaunce for his outrage dew: 

But vaine; for ye shall dearely do him rev', 

So God ye speed and send you good successe, 

Which we far off will here abide to vew,” 

So they him left inflam'd with wrath fulnesse, 

That streight against that knight his speare he did addresse. 


Book II — Canto 1 

XXVI. Who, seeing him from far so fierce to pricke, 

His warlike armes about him gan embrace, 

And in the rest his ready sf^are did slicker 
Tho, when as still he saw him towards^pace, 

He gan rencounter him in equal! ruevJ 
They bene ymett, both rea<iy to afTrap, 

When suddeinly that warriour gan abace 
His threatned spean , as if some new mishap, 

Had him l>etide, or hidden danger did entrap;. 

XXVII. And cryde, “ Mercie, Sir knight! and mercie, Lord, 
For mine ofTeiue and he^delesse hanliinent, 

That had almost committed crime ab]u)rd, 

And with reprochfiill shame mine hc>noiir shent. 

Whiles cursed steele against that b.ulgt‘ 1 bent, 

The sacred badge of my Kt deemers <]• ath, 

Which on your shield is si t for orn.unentl 
But his fierce foe his steed could stay unealh, 

Who, pri('kt with courage kene, did ( ruell battell breath. 

XXVill. But, when he heard him speake, streight way he knew 
His errour; and, himselfc incivnmg, sayd ; 

“ Ah I deare Sir (Juyrm, well becommeth you, 

Ihit me l>ehovcth rather to ujibrayd, 

Whose hastie hand so far from reason slrayd. 

That almost it did haynous violem e 
On that fayre ym.ige of that hc.i\erdv Mayd, 

7’hat <lecks and armes your shit lil \Mth fain* tit fence: 
Your court’sie takes on you anothers dew ofTi nee.” 

XXIX. So bcene they bt)th at one, and tJoeii uy)rcare 
Their l)evers bright each other for to greet; 

Goodly comporuunce each to other l)earc. 

And entertaine themselves with rourt’sics mt » t. 

Then said the knight; “ Now mtite I weet, 
Sir Guyon, why with so fiertc saliaunce, 

And fell intent, ye did at earst me meet; 

For sith I know your gtKKlly gtivt rnaunrc, 

Great cause, I weene, you guided, t)r stjmc uncouth 

XXX. ” Certes,” (said he), ” well mote I shame to tell 
The fond encheason that me hither led. 

A false infamous faitour late befell 

lyS The Faerie Queene 

Me for to meet, that seemed ill bested, 

And playnd of grievous outrage, which he red 
A knigdit had wrought against a Ladie gent; 

Whichlto avenge he to this place me led. 

Where Imu he made the marke of his intent, 

And now is fled : foule shame him follow wher he went ! 

XXXI. So can he tume his earnest unto game, 

^ Through goodly handling and wise temperaunce. 

By this his aged Guide in presence came ; 

Who, soone as on that knight his eye did glaunce, 
Eftsoones of him had perfect cognizaunce, 

Sith him in Faery court he late avizd ; 

And sayd ; “ Fayre sonne, God give you happy chaunce, 
And that dcare Crosse uppon your shield devizd. 
Wherewith above all knights ye goodly seeme aguizd ! 

XXXII. “ Joy may you have, and everlasting fame, 

Of late most hard atchiev^ment by you donne. 

For which enrolled is your glorious name 
In heavenly Regesters above the Sunne, 

Where you a Saint with Saints your seat have wonne: 
But wretched we, where ye have left your marke, 
Must now anew begin like race to ronne, 

God guide thee, Guyon, well to end tliy warke, 

And to the wished haven bring thy weary barke ! ** 

xxxiii. “ Palmer,'' him answered the Redcrosse knight, 

“ His be the praise that this atchiev’ment wrought. 
Who made my hand the organ of his might: 

More then goodwill to me attribute nought; 

For all 1 did, I did but as I ought. 

But you, faire Sir, whose pageant next ensewes. 

Well mote yee thee, as well can wish your thought. 
That home ye may report thrise happy newes; 

For well ye worthy bene for worth and gentle thewes.” 

XXXIV. So courteous conge both did give and take, 

With right hands plighted, pledges of good will. 

Then Guyon forward gan his voyage make 
With his blacke Palmer, that him guided still: 

Still he him guided over dale and hill, 

And with his steedy slafle did point his way ; 


Book II — Canto I 

His race vriih reason, and with words his will, 

From fowle intemperaunce he ofte did sUiy, 

And suffred not in wrath his hasty stc^s to stray. 

XXXV. In this faire wize they travcild long v^tc. 

Through many hard iissayes which din iK’tide; 

Of w'hich he honour still awav did beare, 

And spred his glory through all countrves wide. 

At last, as chaiinst them by a forest side 
To passe, for succour from iht* scorching rav, 

They heard a rucfull voice, that dearnly cride 
With percing shnekes aikti many a dolefull lay ; 

Which to attend awhile their forward steps they stay. 

XXXVI. “ But if that carclesse hcvens,'’ ((|uoth she) “ despise 
The doome of just revenge, and take delight 
To see sad piigcaunts of mens miseries, 

As bownd by them to live in lives despight; 

Yet can they not warne death from wretched wight. 
Come, then; come soonc; come sweetest death, to me, 
And t.ikc away this long lent loathed light: 

Sharpe be thy wounds, but swtclc the medicines l)C, 
Tiiat long captived soules from weary thraldomc free. 

xxxvii. “ But thou, sweete Bal>e, whom frowning frowilrd fate 
Hath made sad wilnesse of thy fathers fall, 

Sith hcven thee <lcignes to hold in living slate, 

Ix^ng maist thou live, and letter thrive withall 
Then to Ihy luckicsse parents did lK*fall. 

Live thou; and to thy mother d<ad attest 
That cleare she didc from blemish criminall: 

Thy litle hands embrewd in bleeding brest 

Loe! I for pledges leave. .So give me leave to rest.** 

xxxviii. With that a deadly .shricke she forth did throw 
'Chat through the wood re-echoed againe ; 

And after gave a grone so deepe and low 
That seemd her tender heart w'as rent in twaine, 

Or thrild with point of thorough-piercing painc; 

As gentle Hynd, whose sides with cruell Steele 
Til rough launched, forth her bleeding life df>cs rainc, 
Whiles the sad pang approching slice docs fcelc, 

Braies out her latest breath, and up her cies doth secle. 

i8o The Faerie Queene 

xxxix. Which when that warriour heard, dismounting straict 
From his tall steed, he rusht into the thick. 

And sopne arrived where that sad pourtraict 
Of deat^ and dolour lay, halfe dead, halfe quick; 

In who^ white alabaster brest did stick 
A cruell knife that made a griesly wownd. 

From which forth gusht a stream of gore blood thick, 
That all her goodly garments staind arownd, 

' And into a deepe sanguine dide the grassy grownd. 

XL. Pitifull spectacle of deadly smart, 

Beside a bubling fountaine low she lay. 

Which shee increased with her bleeding hart. 

And the cleane waves with purple gore did ray: 

Als in her lap a lovely babe did play 
His cruell sport, in stead of sorrow dew; 

For in her streaming blood he did embay 
His litle hands, and tender joints embrew; 

Pitifull spectacle, as ever eie did vewl 

XLI. Besides them both, upon the soiled gras 

I'he dead corse of an anned knight was spred, 

Whose armour all with blood besprincled was; 

^ His mddy lips did smyle, and rosy red 
Did paint his chcarefull cheekes, yett being ded; 
Seemd to have bcene a goodly personage, 

Now in his freshest flowre of lusty-hed, 

Fitt to inflame faire I^dy with loves nige, 

But that Tiers fate did crop th^ blossoine of his age. 

XLir. Whom when the good Sir Guy on did Ixihold, 

His hart gan wexe as starke as marble stone. 

And his fresh blood did frieze with fearefull cold. 

That all his scnces seemd berefte attone; 

At last his mighty ghost gan deepe to grone, 

As Lion, grudging in his great disdaine, 

Mo irnes inwardly, and makes to him sclfe mone; 

Til ruth and fraile affection did constraine 

His stout courage to stoupc, and shew his inward paine. 

XLiiT. Out of her gored wound the cnicll steel 

He lightly snatcht, and did the floodgate stop 
With his faire garment; then gan softly feel 

Book II — Canto I i8 

Her feeble pulse, to prove if any drop 
Of living blood yet in her veynes ilid hop: 

Which when he felt to move, he hojied faurc 
To call backe life to her forstiken shop. * 

So well he did her deadly wounds repaiit, 

That at the last slice gan to breath out living airc. 

XLiv. Which he perceiving greallv gan rejoi(‘e, 

And goodly counscll, that for wounded hart 
Is mectest med’eine, tempred with sweete voice: 

“ Ay me! deare Ladv, which the ymagt* art 
Of ruefull pitty and nnp.ittent smart, 

What direfull chaunce, armd with avenging fate, 

Or cursed hand, hath plaid this cnu ll part, 

'rhus fowlc to hasten your untimely liat**? 

Speake.C) dear Lady .speake ! help never ('ornes too late.*' 

XLV. Therew ith her dim eie-hds she up gan n-are, 

On which llie drery death diti silt as sad 
As lump of lea<l, and made darke clouds .i[>|>earc: 

But when as him, all m bright armour clad, 

Before her standing sIh* espied h.ul. 

As one out of a dcaullv dreame affright, 

She wcak< ly started, yet she nothing drad: 

Slrcight downe againe hcr.selh*, in great flespighi, 

She groveling threw to ground, as hating life aiul light. 

XLVi. Tlic gentle knight her soone with r;ir(*full painc 
rplifted light, and softly dnl njihold: 

Thrise he her reared, and thrise she siint k againe, 

Till he his armes about her sides gan fold, 

And to her said ; “ Vet, if the stony cold 
Have not all seized on your frozen hart, 

Ix;t one word fall that may your gm f unfold. 

And tell the secrete of your mortall smart: 

He oft finds present helpc who dot s his griefe impart,** 

XLvii. Then, casting up a deadly lookc, full low 

Shee sight from Ixittomc of her wounded brest; 

And after, many bitter throbs did throw, 

W^ith lips full pale and foltring tong opprest, 

'Fhese words she breathed forth from riven chest: 

“ Leave, ah ! leave off, whatever wight thou bee, 


The Faerie Queene 

To lett a weary wretch from her dew rest. 

And trouble dying soules tranquilitee ; 

Take not away, now got, which none would give to me/’ 

XLViii. “ Ah ! fai be it,” (said he) “ Deare dame, fro mee, 

To hinder soule from her desired rest. 

Or hold sad life in long captivitee; 

For all I seeke is but to have redrest 
The bitter pangs that doth your heart infest. 

Tell then, O Lady 1 tell what fatall priefe 
Hath with so huge misfortune you opprest; 

That I may cast to corApas your reliefe. 

Or die with you in sorrow, and partake your griefe.” 

XLix. With feeble hands then stretched forth on hye, 

As heven accusing guilty of her death. 

And with dry drops congealed in her eye. 

In these sad wordes she spent her utmost breath: 

** Hcare then, O man ! the sorrowes that uneath 
My tong can tell, so far all sence they pas. 

Loel this dead corpse, that lies here underneath, 

The gentlest knight, that ever on greene gras 

Gay steed with spurs did pricke, the good Sir Mortdant was 

L. “ Was, (ay the while, that he is not so now !) 

My Lord, my love, my deare Lord, my dearc love ! 

So long as hcvens just with equall brow 
Vouchsafed to behold us from above. 

One day, when him high corage did emmove. 

As wont ye knightes to seeke adventures wilde. 

He pricked forth his puissant force to prove. 

Me then he left enwombed of this childe, 

This luckles childe, whom thus ye see with blood defild. 

LI. “ Him fortuned (hard fortune ye may ghesse) 

To come, where vile Acrasia does wonne ; 

Acrasia, a false enchauntcresse. 

That many errant knightes hath fowle fordonne; 

Within a wandring Island, that doth ronne 
And stray in perilous gulfe, her dwelling is. 

Fayre Sir, if ever there ye travell, shonne 
The cursed land where many wend amis. 

And know it by the name: it hight the Bowre oj hits. 

Book II — Canto I 183 

Lii. “ Her blis is all in pleasure, and delight, 

Wherewith she makes her lovers dronken mad; 

And then with words, and woedes, of w’ondrous might, 
On them she vorkes her will to uses bad: 

My liefest Ix>rd she thus higinled had : i 
Por he was flesh: (all flesh doth fravltie breed) 

Whom w'hen I heard to beene so ill bestad. 

Weake wretch, I wrapt myselfe in Palmers weed, 

And cast to seek him forth through danger and greatdreed. 

LIII. “ Now had favre Cynthia by even tournes 
Full measured three quarters of her yeare, 

And thrise three lymes hail tilcl her crooked homes, 
W^henas my womhe her burdem would forbeare, 

And bade me call Lucina to me ueare. 

Lucina came; a manchild forth i brought; 

The woods, the nvm|>hes,my how res, my midw ives, weare : 
Hard help at need! So deare thee, babe, I bought; 

Yet nought too dear I deenui, w hile so my dearc 1 suughl. 

Liv. “ Him so I sought; and so at last I fownd, 

Where him that witch had thralh d to her will, 

In chaines of lust and lewde desyres ybownd. 

And so transformed from his former skill, 

That me he knew not, nether his owne ill; 

Till, through wise handling and fairc governaunce, 

I him recured to a better will, 

Purged from drugs of fowle intcmperauncc: 

Then meancs 1 gan ilevise for his drliveraunrc. 

LV. “ Which when the vile ICnehaiinleresse perceiv’d, 

How that my I^ord from her I would rcprivc, 

With cup thus charmd him parting .she dcrcivd ; 

‘ Sad verse, give death to him that death does give, 

And losse of love to her that loves to live. 

So soone as Bacchus with the Nvm[>hc docs lincl;cl * 

So parted we, and on (iur journey drive; 

Till, coming to this well, he stoujit to drinrke: 

The charmc fulfild, dead suddcinly he downc did sincke. 

Lvi. “ Which when I, wretch ” — Not one word more she sayd. 
But breaking off the end for w’ant of breath. 

And slyding soft, as downe to slccpc her layd, 


The Faerie Queene 

And ended all her woe in quiet death. 

That seeing, good Sir Guyon could une,. 

From teares abstayne; for griefe his hart did grate, 
And from so heavie sight his head did wreath, 
Accusii^^ fortune, and too cruell fate. 

Which plonged had faire Lady in so wretched state. 

LVii. Then turning to his Palmer said ; “ Old syre. 

Behold the ymage of mortalitie. 

And feeble nature cloth’d with fleshly tyre. 

When raging passion with fierce tyranny 
Robs reason of her dew regalitie. 

And makes it servaunt to her basest part. 

The strong it weakens with infirmitie. 

And with bold furie armes the weakest hart: 

The strong through pleasure soonest falles, the wcake 
through smart/' 

LViii. But temperaunce " (said he) “ with golden squire 
Betwixt them both can measure out a meane; 

Nether to melt in pleasures whott desyre, 

Nor frye in hartlesse griefe and dolefull tene: 

Thrise happy man, who fares them both atweene 1 
But sith this wretched woman overcome 
Of anguish, rather then of crime, hath bene. 

Reserve her cause to her eternall doome; 

And, in the meane, vouchsafe her honorable toombe." 

Lix. “ Palmer," quoth he, ‘‘ death is an equall doome 
To good and bad, the common In of rest; 

But after death the tryall is to come. 

When best shall bee to them that lived best; 

But both alike, when death hath both supprest. 
Religious reverence doth buriall teene; 

Which whoso wants, wants so much of his rest: 

For all so great shame after death I weene. 

As selfe to dyen bad, unburied bad to beene." 

LX. So both agree their bodies to engrave: 

The great earthes wombe they open to the sky. 

And with sad Cypresse seemely it embrave; 

Then, covering with a clod their closed eye. 

They lay therein their corses tenderly. 

Book II — Canto I 


And bid them sleepe in everlasting peace. 

But, ere they did their utmost obscquy, 

Sir Guyon, more afTcction to increace, 

Bynempt a sacred vow, which none should ay rclcace. 

LXI. The dead knights sword out of his sheath he drew, 
With which he cutt a lock of all their heare. 

Which medling with their blood and earth he threw 
Into the grave, and gan devoutly sweare; 

“ Such and such e\ il Clod on Ciuyon rearc, 

And worse and worse, you9g Orphane. he thy payne, 
If I, or thou, dew vcngcaunce doe forhearc, 

Till guiltie blood her guerdon doe oluayne! ” 

So shedding many tcarcs they clustl the earth agayne« 


The Faerie Queene 


Babes bloody handcs may not be clensd : 

The face of golden Mcane: 

Her sisters, two Kxtrcmities, 

Strive her to banish clcane. 

I. Thus when Sir Guyon with his faithful guyde 
Had with dew rites and dolorous lament 
The end of their sad Tragedie uptyde, 

The litle babe up in his armcs he hent; 

Who with sweet pleasaunce, and bold blandishment. 
Gan smyle on them, that rather ought to weepe, 

As carelesse of his woe, or innocent 
Of that was doen; that ruth emperced deepe 
In that knightes hart, and wordes with bitter teares 
did steepe: 

II. “ Ah! lucklesse babe, borne under cruell starrc. 

And in dead parents balcfull ashes bred. 

Full little weenest thou what sorrowes are 
Left thee for porcion of thy livelyhed ; 

Poore Orphane! in the wild world scattered, 

As budding braunch rent from the native tree, 

And throwen forth, till it be withered. 

Such is the state of men: Thus enter we 
Into this life with woe, and end with miseree! 

III. Then, soft himselfe inclyning on his knee 
Downe to that well, did in the water weene 
(So love does loath disdainefull nicitee) 

His guiltie handes from bloody gore to clecnc. 

He washt them oft and oft, yet nought they beene 
For all his washing cleaner. Still he strove; 

Yet still the litle hands were bloody scene: 

The which him into great amazement drove, 

And into diverse doubt his wavering wonder clove. 

IV. He wist not whether biott of fowle offence 
Might not be purgd with water nor with bath; 

Or that high God, in lieu of innocence, 

Book II — Canto II 187 

Imprinted had that token of his wrath, 

To shew how sore bloodguiltinesse he hat’th; 

Or that the charme and vencmc whicli they dronck, 
Tlieir blood with secret filth infected hath, 

Being diffused through the senceless tronck, 

That through the great contagion tli refill deadly stonck. 

V. Whom thus at gaze the Palmer gan to bord 
With goodly rt<ison. and thus fayre lH*spake; 

“ Ve bene right hard amate<l, gratious Ixud, 

And of your ignorance great nu rveill miike, 

Whiles cause not well concPiveil ye mistake. 

But know, that secret vertues are inf usd 

In every fountaint*, and in everie lake, 

Which who hath skill them rightly to have chusd, 

To proofe of passing wonders hath full often usd: 

VI. “ Of those, some w'cre so from their sourse indew d 
By great Dame Nature, from whose fruitfull paf) 

Their welheads spring, and are with moisture deawil; 
Which feedes each living plant with licpiid saj), 

And filles with flowres fayre Horaes pamlctl lap: 

But other some, by guiftc of later grace, 

Or by good prayers, or by other h.ij), 

Had vertue pourd into their waters hare. 

And thenceforth were ronowmd, and sought from place 
to place, 

VII. “ Such is this well, wrought by occ^ision slraunge, 

Which to her Nymph befell. Upon a day, 

As she the woodcs with how and shafles did raunge, 

Tlie hartlcsse Hynd and Robuckc to dismay, 

Dan Faunus chaunst to meet her by Iht* way, 

And, kindling fire at licr fairc-burning eye. 

Inflamed w'as to follow beauties pray. 

And chaced her that fast from him did fly; 

As hynd from her, so she fled from her enimy. 

VIII. “ At last, when fayling breath began to faint, 

And saw no meanes to sc^pe, of shame alTrayd, 

She set her downc to weepe for sore constraint; 

And to Diana calling lowd for ayde, 

Her deare besought to let her die a mayd. 

The goddesse heard ; and suddeine, where she sate 


The Faerie Queene 

Welling out streames of teares, and quite dismayd 
With stony feare of that rude rustick mate, 
Transformd her to a stone from stedfast virgins state. 

IX. “ Lol now she is that stone; from whose two heads, 
As from two weeping eyes, fresh streames do flow. 

Yet colde through feare and old conceived dreads; 
And yet the stone her semblance seemes to show, 
Shapt like a maide, that such ye may her know: 

And yet her vertues in her water byde, 

For it is chaste and pure as purest snow, 

Nc lets her waves with*any filth be dyde ; 

But ever, like herselfe, unstayned hath beene tryde. 

X. “ From thence it comes, that this babes bloody hand 
May not be elensd with water of this well: 

Ne certes, Sir, strive you it U) withstand. 

But let them still l^e bloody, as befell, 

That they his mothers innocence may tell. 

As she bequeathd in her last testament ; 

That, as a sacred Symbole, it may dwell 
In her sonnes flesh, to mind revengement. 

And be for all chaste Dames an endlesse moniment.’* 

XI. He hearkned to his reason, and the childe 
Uptaking, to the Palmer gave to beare; 

But his sad fathers armes wdth blood defildc. 

An heavie load, himselfc did lightly reare; 

And turning to that place, in which whylcarc 
He left his loftie steed with golden sell 

And goodly gorgeous barbes, him found not theare: 
By other accident, tliat earst l)efcll. 

He is convaide; but how, or where, here fits not tell. 

XII. Which when Sir Guyon saw, all were he wroth. 

Yet algates mote he softe himsclfe appease, 

And faircly fare on foot, how ever loth: 

His double burden did him sore disease. 

So long they travelled with litlc ease, 

Till that at last they to a Castle came. 

Built on a rockc adjoyning to the seas: 

It was an auncient worke of antique fame, 

And wondrous strong by nature, and by skilful frame. 


Book II — Canto II 

XIII. Therein three sisters dwelt of sundry sort. 

The children of one syre by mothers three; 

Who dying whylome did divide this fort 
To them by etjiiall ^h^iros in equall fee: 

But stryfull mind and diverse qualilce 
Drew them in partes, and each maile others foe: 

Still did they strive and daily disagree; 

The eldest did against the voungest goe, 

And both against tlie initMest meant to worken woe. 

XIV. Where when the knight arriv’d, he was right well 
Receiv’d, as knight of so much worth liecame, 

Of second sister, who did far exccll 

The other two: Medina her name, 

A sober sad and cornelv < oiirleous Dame; 

Wlio rich arayd, and yet in modest gin/.e. 

In goodly garments her well hec.inn*, 

Fayre marching forth in honor.d)le wi/.e, 

Him at the threshold mett, and well did enterprize. 

XV. She led him up into a goodly bowre. 

And comely courted with meet mmieslie; 

Ne in her speach, nc in her haviour, 

Was lighlnesse scene or looser vanitie, 

But gratious womanhood, and gravitic, 

Alxive the reason of her youthly y cares. 

Her golden lockes she roiiiiilly did uptye 
In breaded trarnels, that no looser heares 
Did out of order stiay about her d.aintic carc». 

XVI. Wildest she her selfc thus busily did frame 
Sccmcly to enterUiine her ncw-come guest, 

Newes hereof to her other sisters came, 

Who all this wliilc were at their wariUin rest, 
Accourting each her frend with lavish fest: 

They were two knights of perclesse puissaunre, 

And famous far abroad for warlike gest, 

Which to these Ladies love did countenaunce, 

And to his mistresse each himselfe strove to advaunce* 

XVII. He that made love unto the eldest Dame, 

Was hight Sir Huddibras, an hardy man; 

Vet not so good of deedes as great of name, 


The Faerie Queene 

Which he by many rash adventures wan, 

Since errant armes to sew he first began: 

More huge in strength then wise in workes he was, 
And reason with foolc-liardize over ran; 

Sterne melancholy did his courage pas, 

And was, for terrour more, all armd in shyning bras. 

XVIII. But he that lov’d the youngest was Sansloy; 

He, that faire Una late fowle outraged, 

The most unruly and the boldest boy 
That ever warlike weapons menaged. 

And all to lawlesse lust encouraged 

Through strong opinion of his matchlesse might; 

Ne ought he car’d whom he endamaged 

By tortious wrong, or whom bereav’d of right: 

lie, now this loaches Champion, chose for love to fight. 

XIX. These two gay knights, vowd to so diverse loves, 

Each other does envy with deadly hate. 

And daily warre against his foeman moves. 

In hope to win more favour with his mate, 

And th’ others pleasing service to abate, 

To magnifie his owne. But when they heard 
How in that place straunge knight arrived late. 

Both knightes and ladies forth right angry far’d, 

And fercely unto battcll sterne themselves prepai *d, 

XX. But ere they could proceede unto the place 
Where he abode, themselves at discord fell. 

And cruell combat joynd in middle space: 

With horrible assault, and fury fell. 

They heapt huge strokes the scorned life to quell. 
That all on uprore from her settled scat. 

The house was raysd, and all that in did dwell. 

Seemd that lowde thunder with amazement great 
Did rend the ratling skyes with flames of fouldring heat. 

XXI. The noysc thereof cald forth that straunger knight. 

To weet what dreadfull thing was there in hond ; 
Where whenas two brave knightes in bloody fight 
With deadly rancour he enraunged fond. 

His sunbroad shield about his wrest he bond. 

And shyning blade unsheathd, with which he ran 

Book II — Canto II 

Unto that stead, their strife to iinderstond; 

And at his first arrivall them 

With goodly meaiu s to parifie, as he can. 

XXII. But they, him spring, both with grenly li*rsc 
Attonce upon him ran, and him lu srt 
With strokes of morlad steele without n morse, 

And on his shioUl like \ ron l>et: 

As when ii Heare and TNure. houig nu t 
In crucll fij^ht (»n L\ ba ke Otvan Nside, 

Espye a tra\eiler with feej surhet. 

Whom they in etpiall prav hope to di\ide. 

They stint their strife and him assayle on e\i‘ric side. 

XXIII. But he, nnt like a weary traveilere, 

Their shaip assault rii;ht boldh did rt hut. 

And sufTr(‘d not their blowes to livte him nere. 

But with rc'doubled bufTes them barke did put: 

Wliosc grie\ed mindes, w'hi< h c holer did enj^lut, 

Against themseKa^ turning their wrallifiill spight, 

(Ian with new' rage their slueldes to hi*w and eut; 

But still, when (iuvon <'amc to part th<*ir light, 

With heavic load on him they freshlv gan to smight. 

XXIV. As a tall shif) tossed m troublous seas, 

W iiom raging wmdes, threatning to make the Jjray 
Of the rough ro( kes, doe diversly disi.ise, 

Meetes two contranc billow’cs by the way, 

That her on either side doe sore assa\ , 

And liuiist to swallow* her in greedy grave; 

Shec, scorning both their spights, dots make wide way, 
And with her lirest breaking the fomy wave, 

Does ride on both their ha*'ks, and faire her self doth save. 

XXV. So boldly he him bcarcs, and rushelh forth 
Betweene them both by conduct of his blade. 

Wondrous great f)rowesse and heroic k worth 
He shewd that clay, and rare cnsample made, 

When two so mighty warriours he dismade. 

Attonce he wards and strikes; he takes and paics; 

Now forst to yield, now forcing to invade; 

Before, behind, and round alxjut him laies; 

So double was his paines, so double be his praise. 

192 The Faerie Queene 

XXVI. Straunge sort of fight, three vaJiaunt knights to see 
Three combates joine in one, and to darraine 
A triple warre with triple enmitee. 

All for their Ladies froward love to gaine, 

Which gotten was but hate. So love does raine 
In stoutest minds, and maketh monstrous wane; 

He maketh wane, he maketh peace againe. 

And yett his peace is but continual jarre: 

O miserable men that to him subject arre I 

XXVII. Whilst thus they mingled were in furious armes, 

The faire Medina, with her tresses tome 
And naked brest, in pitty of their harmes, 

Emongst them ran; and, falling them beforne. 

Besought them by the womb which them had born, 

And by the loves which were to them most deare, 

And by the knighthood which they sure had sworn, 
Their deadly crucll discord to forbeare, 

And to her just conditions of faire peace to heare. 

xxviii. Buv her two other sisters, standing by, 

Her lowd gainsaid, and both their champions bad 
Pursew the end of their strong enmity, 

As ever of their loves they would be glad: 

Yet she with pitthy words, and counsell sad. 

Still strove their stubbornc rages to revoke; 

That at the last, suppressing fury mad. 

They gan abstaine from dint of direful! stroke. 

And hearken to the sober speaches which she spoke. 

XXIX. “ Ah, puissaunt Lords! what cursed evil Spright, 

Or fell Erinnys, in your noble harts 

Her hellish brond hath kindled with despight. 

And stird you up to worke your wilfull smarts? 

Is this the joy of armes? be these the parts 
Of glorious knighthood, after blood to thrust. 

And not regard dew right and just desarts? 

Vaine is the vaunt, and victory unjust. 

That more to mighty hands then rightfull cause doth trust. 

XXX. ** And were there rightfull cause of dificrence, 

Yet were not better fay re it to accord 
Then with bloodguiltinesse to heape offence. 


Book II — Canto II 

And mortaJ vcn^eaunce joyne to crime abhord ? 

01 fly from wrath; fly. O my licfejit Ix)rd I 
Sad be the sights, and bitter fruites of warrc, 

And thousand furies wait on wrathfull sword; 

Ne ought the praise of prowesse more doth marre 
Then fowle revenging rage, and base contentious jarre 

XXXI. But lovely concord, and most sacred |)eacc, 

Doth nourish verliie, and fast friendship breeds, 

Weake she makes strong, and strong thing does increace, 
'fill it the pitch of highest pnnse exceeds: 

Brave be her warres, and honorable deeds, 

By which she trinmphes over yie and prule, 

And winnes an Olive girlond for her meeds. 

Be, therefore, O mv deare J.ords! pai iliile, 

And this misdeeming disconl meektOv lay asiile.*' 

XXXli. Her gracious words their ramonr dnl apj)all, 

And siinckc so dee|)c into tlnar boyling brests. 

That downe they lelt their eruell weapons fall, 

And lowly did abase their lofty crests 
To her fairc presence and dis(Tele liela sts. 

Then she began a treaty to pna nrt*. 

And stablish terms betwixt lioth their r(‘<|nests, 

That as a law forever shriiikl enclure; 

Which to obderve in word of knights they cJid itssure 

xxxiii. Which to confirme, an<i fast to bind tlieir league. 

After their weary sweat and bloody toile, 

She them besinight, during llicir (juict in ague. 

Into her lodging to repain- awhile, 

To rest themselves, and grac e to reconcile. 

They soone consent: so forth with her they fare; 

Where they are well re< eivrl, and made to s{)Oile 

Themselves of soiled armes, and to prepare 

Their minds to pleiisurc,and their mouths to dainty fare, 

XXXIV. And those two froward sisters, their faire loves, 

Came with them eke, all were they wondrous lotli. 

And fained chcarc, as for the time l>ehoves, 

But could not colour yet so well the troth. 

But that their natures bad appeard in lx>th; 

For both did at their second sister grutch 


The Faerie Queene 

And inly grieve, as doth an hidden moth 
The inner garment frett, not th’ utter touch: 

One thought her cheare too litle, th’ other thought too 

XXXV. Elissa (so the eldest hight) did deeme 

Such entertainment base, ne ought would eat, 

Ne ought would speake, but evermore did seeme 
As discontent for want of merth or meat: 

No solace could her Paramour intreat 
Her once to show, ne court, nor dalliaunce; 

But with bent lowring browes, as she would threat. 
She scould, and frownd with froward countenaunce ; 
Unworthy of faire Ladies comely govemaunce. 

XXXVI. But young Pcrissa was of other mynd. 

Full of disport, still laughing, loosely light. 

And quite contrary to her sisters kynd; 

No measure in her mood, no rule of right. 

But poured out in pleasure and delight: 

In wine and meats she flowd above the banck. 

And in exccsse exceeded her owne might; 

In sumptuous tire she joyd her sclfe to pranck, 

But of her love too lavish: (litle have she thanck!) 

XXXVII. Fast by her side did sitt the bold Sansloy, 

Fitt mate for such a mincing mineon. 

Who in her loosenesse tooke exceeding joy; 

Might not be found a francker franion, 

Of her leawd parts to make companion : 

But Huddibras, more like a Malecontent, 

Did see and grieve at his bold fashion; 

Hardly could he endure his hardiment, 

Vett still he satt, and inly did him selfe torment. 

xxxvni. Betwixt them both the faire Medina sate 
With sober grace and goodly carriage: 

With equall measure she did moderate 
The strong extremities of their outrage. 

That forward paire she ever would ass wage. 

When they would strive dew reason to exceed, 

But that same froward twaine would accorage, 

And of her plenty adde unto their need : 

So kept she them in order, and her selfe in heed. 

Book II — Canto II 


XXXIX. Thus fairely shee aitemjM'red her feast, 

And pleasd them all with ineete satiety. 

At last, when lust of meat and drinkc was ceast, 

She Guy on deare besought of cuncsic 

To tell from wiicnee he came ihrcuigh jcojauly, 

And hither now on new atlventurc hKovnd: 

Who with bold grace and comely gravity, 

Drawing to him the eies of all arownd, 

From lofty siege began these words aloud to sownd. 

XL. “ This thy dcmaiiml, O Lady! doth revive 
Fresh memory in me of that great Queene, 

Great and most glorious virgin Qnet ne alive, 

That with her soveraine power, ami st epler shene, 
All Faery lond does |>e.iceably sustene. 

In widest Ocean she her throne iloes reare, 

'I'hat over all the earth it may be seene; 

As morning Sunne her beames dispredden ( Icare. 
And in her faci' faire [leace and mercy doth appeare. 

XLI. “ In her the richessc of all heavenly grace 
In chiefe degree arc heaped up on hye: 

And all, that els this worlds enclosure bare 
Hath great or glorious in niorlall eye, 

Adorncs the jierson of her Majeslyc; 

That men, beholding so great excellence 
And rare perfc< tion in mortalilye. 

Doe her adore with sacred reverence. 

As th’ Idole of her makers great magnificence. 

XLli. “ To her 1 homage and my service owe, 

In number of the noblest kniglites on ground; 
Mongst whom on me she <leigned to l>estowc 
Order of Maydenhead, the most n now nd 
Tliat may this day in all the world lx: found. 

An ycarcly solcmne feast she wontes to hold, 

The day that first doth lead the yeare around, 

To which all knights of worth and courage lx>ld 
Resort, to heare of straunge adventures to l>c told. 

XLlil. There this old Palmer shewd himselfe that day, 
And to that mighty Princesse did < omplamc 
Of grievous mischiefes which a wicked Pay 

1 96 The Faerie Quecne 

Had wrought, and many whelmd in deadly paine; 
Whereof he crav'd redresse. My Soveraine, 

Whose glory is in gracious deeds, and joyes 
Throughout the world her mercy to maintaine, 

Eftsoones devised redresse for such annoyes: 

Me, all unfitt for so great purpose, she employes. 

XLiv. Now hath faire Phebe with her silver face 
'fhrise scene the shadowes of the neather world, 

Sith last I left that honorable place, 

In which her roiall presence is enrold; 

Ne ever shall I rest in Ifouse nor hold. 

Till I that false Acrasia have wonne; 

Of whose fowle deedes, too hideous to bee told, 

I witnesse am, and this their wretched sonne, 

Whose wofull parents she hath wickedly fordonne." 

XLV. ** Tell on, fayre Sir," said she, “ that dolefull tale. 

From which sad ruth docs seeme you to restraine. 

That we may pitty such unhappie bale, 

And Icarne from pleasures poyson to abstaine; 

111 by ensampic good doth often gayne." 

Then forward he his purpose gan pursew. 

And told the story of the mortall payne. 

Which Mordant and Amavia did rew. 

As with lamenting eyes him selfe did lately vew. 

XLVI. Night was far spent; and now in Ocean deep 
Orion, flying fast from hissing snake, 

His flaming head did hasten for to steep. 

When of his pittcous tale he end did make: 

Whilst with delight of that he wisely spake 
Those guestes, bcgiiyled, did begiiyle their eyes 
Of kindly slcepc that did them overtake. 

At last, when they had markt the chaunged skyes, 

They w is t their houre was spent ; then each to rest him hyes. 

Book II— Canto III 



Vaino Hrap#ja<I< Ciiv- 

ons ht'rs<\ !•» m.uir thr sc^rno 
Of knighthood tn w, and is of I.iyre 
Delpha-hr hiwle ft^rlorn** 

I. SooNK as the morrow fayre with purple* iK'amcs 
Disj^rst the shadowes of the misty tii^ht, 

And Titan, playing on the eastern streames, 

Gan cicarc the deawy avre with springing light, 

Sir Guyon, mindfull of his vow vplight, 

Uprose from drow^ie eoueh, and Inm addrest 
Unto the journey which he had l)(*h!ght: 

His puissant armes about his noble brcsi. 

And many-folded shield he bound about his wrest. 

II. Then, taking ('ong6 of that virgin pure, 

The bloody-handed babe unto her truth 
Did earnestlx committ, an<l her tonjun* 

In vertuous lore to traine his tender voutli, 

And all that gentle noriturc ensu’th; 

And that, so soone as ryper yeares he* i aught, 

He miglit, for memory of that dayes ruth. 

Be railed Kuddymane: ami thereby taught 

T’ avt nge his Parents de.ith on tln-m that h.ul it wrouglit. 

III. So forth he far’d, as now* Ixrh 11, on foot, 

Sith his good steed is lately from him gone; 

Patience perforce; heli>Iesse what may it boot 
To frett for anger, cir f<»r griefe to moiu;? 

His Palmer now shall foot no more alone. 

So fortune wrought, as under grecne w'oofles sydi! 

He lately heard that d> ing I^dy grone. 

He left his steed vxithout, and speare Ix^syde, 

And ruslied in on foot to ayd her ere she dyde. 

IV. The whyles a losell wandring by the wav, 

One that to bountie never cast his mynd, 

Nc thought of honour ever did assay 

198 The Faerie Queene 

His baser brcst, but in his kestrell kynd 
A pleasing vaine of glory he did fynd, 

To which his flowing toung and troublous spright 
Gave him great ayd, and made him more inclynd : 

He, that brave steed there finding ready dight, 

Purloynd both steed and speare, and ran away full light. 

V. Now gan his hart all swell in jollity, 

And of him selfe great hope and help conceiv’d, 

That puffed up with smoke of vanity. 

And with selfe-loved personage deceiv’d. 

He gan to hope of men* to be receiv’d 

For such as he him thought, or faine would bee: 

But for in court gay portaunce he perceiv’d. 

And gallant shew to be in greatest gree, 

Eftsoones to court he cast t’ advaunce his first degree. 

VI. And by the way he chaunced to espy 
One sitting ydle on a sunny banck. 

To him avaiinting in great bravery. 

As Peacocke that his painted plumes doth pranck, 

He smote his courser in the trembling flanck. 

And to him threatned his hart-thrilling speare: 

The scely man, seeing him ryde so ranck, 

And ayme at him, fell flatt to ground for feiire, 

And crying, “ Mercy I ” loud, his pitious handes gan rearc. 

VII, Thereat the Scarcrow wexed wondrous prowd. 

Through fortune of his first adventure fayre, 

And with big thundring voice revyld him k)wd: 

“ Vile Caytive, vassall of dread and despayre, 

Unworthie of the commune breathed ayre, 

Why livest thou, dead dog, a longer day. 

And doest not unto death thy selfe prepay re ? 

Dy, or thyselfe my captive yield for ay. 

Great favour I thee graunt for aunswere thus to stay.” 

vm. “ Hold, O deare Lord! hold your dead-doing hand,” 
Then loud he cryde; “ I am your humble thrall.” 

“ Ay wretch,” (quoth he) “ thy destinies withstand 
My wrathfull will, and doe for mercy call. 

I give thee life: therefore prostrated fall. 

And kisse my stirrup; that thy homage bee.’* 


Book II — Canto III 

'Hie Miser threw him sclfe, as an Offall, 

Streight at his foot in base humilitee, 

And deeped him his liege, to hold of him in fee. 

IX. So happy peace they made and faire accord 
Eftsoones this liegeman gan to wexe more bold. 

And when he felt the folly of his U)rd, 

In his owne kind he gan him solfe unfold; 

For he was wylie wilted, and growne old 
In cunning slcightes and practiek knavery. 

From that day forth he <\ist for to upholil 
His ydlc humour with fincffiattcry, 

And blow the bellowcs to his swcjlmg vanity. 

X. Trompart, fitt man for Braggatlorhio, 

To serv^e at court in vit-w of vaunting eve; 
Vainc-glorioiis man, when fluttring wind does blow 
In his light winges, is lifted up to skyc; 

I'he srornc of knighthood and tre w i hevalryc, 

To thinke, without desert of gentle deed 
And noble worth, to be advaunced hye: 

Such prayse is shame; but honour, vertnes meed, 
Doth bcare the fayre^t flc»wri* in honf>ural)le seed. 

XI. So forth they pas, a well consorte<l pay re, 

Till that at lengUi with Archimage they nif et: 

Who seeing one, that shone in armour favre, 

On goodly courser thondring with his feet, 

Eftsoones supposed him a person meejt 
Of his revenge to make the* instrument; 

For since the Redcrosse knight he erst tiid weet 
To been with (iuyon knitt in one etinsent, 

Tlie ill, which earsl to him, he now to (Iuyon ment. 

XII. And coming close to Trompart gan inqucrc 
Of him, what mightie warriour that mote bee. 

That rode in golden sell v, \ih single sp<;re. 

But wanted sword to wreake his enmitcc? 

“ He is a great adventurer,'* (said he) 

“ That hath his sword through hard assay forgone. 
And now hath vowd, till he avenged 1h:c 
Of that despight, never to wcaren none : 

That speare is him enough to doen a thousand gronc.” 

2 00 

The Faerie Queene 

XIII. Th’ enchaunter greatly joyed in the vaunt, 

And weened well ere long his will to win, 

And both his foen with equall foyle to daunt. 

Tho to him looting lowly did begin 

To plaine of wronges, which had committed bin 
By Guyon, and by that false Redcrosse knight; 

Which two, through treason and deceiptfull gin. 

Had slayne Sir Mordant and his Lady bright: 

That mote him honour win to wreak so foule despight. 

XIV. Therewith all suddeinly he seemd enragd, 

And threatned death with dreadfiill countcnaunce. 

As if their lives had in his hand beene gagd ; 

And with stiffe force shaking his mortall launce. 

To let him weet his doughtie valiaunce. 

Thus said: ** Old man, great sure shal be thy meed, 

If, where those knights for feare of dew vengeaunce 
Doe lurke, thou certeinly to mee areed. 

That I may wreake on them their hainous hatefull deed.” 

XV. “ Certes, my Lord,” (said he) “ that shall I soone, 

And give you eke good helpe to their dec*iy. 

But mote I wisely you advise to doon. 

Give no ods to your foes, but doe purvay 
Your selfe of sword before that bloody day; 

For they be two the prowest knights on grownd, 

And oft approv’d in many hard assay ; 

And eke of surest steele that may be fownd, 

Do arme your self against that day, them to confownd.” 

XVI, Dotard,” (said he) ** let be thy decpe advise: 

Seemes that through many yeares thy wits thee faile, 
And that weake eld hath left thee nothing wise; 

Els never should thy judgement be so frayle 
To measure manhood by the sword or mayle. 

Is not enough fowre quarters of a man, 

Withouten sword or shield, an hoste to quayle.^ 

Thou litle wotest what this right-hand can : 

Speake they which have beheld the battailes which it wan.” 

XVII. The man was much abashed at his boast; 

Yet well he wist that whoso would contend 
With either of those knightes on even^coast, 


Book II— Canto III 

Should neede of all his armes him to defend. 

Yet feared least his boldnessc should offend, 

When Brag^iidocchio siiide; “ Once I did swearo. 

When with one sword seven knighles I brouj^bt to end, 
Thenceforth in battaile never s\n ord to l>eafe, 

Butit were that which noblest knight on earth doth wcare.” 

XVIII. “ Perdy, Sir knight/* siiide then th' enchauntcr blive, 

“ That shall I shortly purch;ise to vour bond; 

For now the best and noblest k night alive 
Prince Arthur is, that wonpes in Kieric lond: 

He hath a sword that flames like burning brond. 

The same by my device I umlertake 
Shall bv to morrow by thy side be fond.** 

At whieli bold uord that boaster gan to (piake, 

And wondred in his rnindc what mote that Monster make. 

XIX. He stayd not for more bidding, but away 
Was siiddcin vanished out of his sight: 

The Northerne winde his wings did broad display 
At his commaund, and reared him iij) light 
From off the earth to take his aerie flight. 

They lookt about, but nowhere could espye 
Tract of his foot: then dead through great affright 
They botli nigh were, and each bad other five: 

Both fled attonce, nc ever backe retournid eye; 

XX. Till that they come unto a forrest greene, 

In which they shrowd themselves from rauseles fcarc; 

Yet fearc them followes still where so they bcene. 

Each trembling Icafe ami whistling wind they hearc, 

As ghastly bug, does greatly them afFe«ire: 

Yet both doe strive their fearefuliiesse to fainc. 

At last they heard a home that thrilled dearc 
Throughout the w'ood that ccch(*ed agaiiie, 

And made the forrest ring, as it would rive in tw^ainc. 

XXI. Eft through the thirke they heard one rudely nish. 

With noyse w^hereof he from his loftie steed 
Downe fell to ground, and crept into a bush. 

To hide his coward hcarl from dying dreed: 

But Trompart stoutly stayd to taken heed 
Of what might hap. Eftsoone there stepped foorth 


The Faerie Queene 

A goodly Ladie clad in hunters weed, 

Tliat seemd to be a woman of great worth, 

And by her stately portance borne of heavenly birth. 

XXII, Her face so faire as flesh it seemed not, 

But hevenly pourtraict of bright Angels hew, 

Cleare as the skye, withoutcn blame or blot, 

Through goodly mixture of complexions dew; 

And in her cheekes the vermeill red did shew 
lake roses in a bed of lillies shed. 

The which ambrosiaH odours from them threw, 

And gazers sence with double pleasure fed, 

Hable to heale the sicke, and to revive the ded. 

xxiii. In her faire eyes two living lamps did flame, 

Kindled above at th* hevenly makers light. 

And darted fyrie beames out of the same, 

So passing persant, and so wondrous bright. 

That quite bereaved the rash beholders sight : 

In them the blinded god his lustfull fyre 
To kindle oft assayd, but had no might; 

For, with dredd Majestie and awfull yre, 

She broke his wanton darts, and quenched bace desyre. 

XXIV. Her yvorie forhead, full of bountie brave. 

Like a broad table did it selfe dispred, 

For Love his loftie triumphes to engrave, 

And write the battailes of his great godhed: 

All good and honour might therein be red, 

For there their dwelling was. And, when she spake, 
Sweetc wordes like dropping honny she did shed; 

And twixt the pcrles and rubins softly brake 
A silver sound, that heavenly musicke seemd to make. 

XX v. Upon her eyelids many Graces sate. 

Under the shadow of her even browes, 

Working bclgardes and amorous retrate; 

And everie one her with a grace endowes. 

And everie one with meekenesse to her bowes. 

So glorious mirrhour of celestiail grace, 

And soveraine moniment of mortall vowes, 

How shall frayle pen descrive her heavenly face, 

For feare, through want of skill, her beauty to dissrrace ? 

Book II — Canto 111 203 

xxvT. So faire, and thousand thousand times more fairc. 

She seemd, when she presented was to sight ; 

And was yclad, for heat of scorching aire, 

All in a silken Camus hlly wlught, 

Purflcd upon w'ith many a ft»Kled plight, 

Which all alxive besprinckled was throughout 
With golden aygulcU, that glistred bright 
Like twinckling starrcs; and all the skirt al>oul 
Was hemd with golden fringe. 

XXVII. Below her ham her weec^did somewhat tn\yne. 

^Vnd her streight legs most liravely were einUiyld 
In gilden buskins of cosilv ('ordw'ayne, 

All bard with goKlen bendes, wliich were entayld 
With curious anlukes, and full fayre aumaylil: 

Before, they fastned were under her knee 

In a rich jewell, and therein entrayld 

The ends of all the knots, that none might see 

How they within their fouldings close enwrapped liec: 

XXVIII. Like two faire marble pillours they were scene, 

Which doc the temple of the Gods siip|K>rt, 

Whom all the people d(*rke with girlands grccne, 

And honour in their festivall resort; 

Those same with stately grace and princely port 
She taught to tread, when she herselfe would gnicc; 
But with the woody Nymphes when she did play, 

Or when the flying Lil;bard she did chacc, 

She could then nimbly move, anrl after fly apace. 

XXIX. And in her hand a sharpe lK>re-s|X‘are she held, 

And at her backe a bow and (jiiiver gay, 

Stuft with Steele-headed dartes, wherew'ith she qurld 
The salvage l>eastes in her victorious play, 

Knit with a golden bauldricke, which forelay 
Athwart her snowy brest, and did divide 
Her daintic paps; which, like young fruit in May, 
Now little gan to swell, and l)eing tide 
Through her thin weed their places only signifidc. 

XXX. Her yellow lockcs, crisped like golden wyre, 

About her shoulders w'cren loosely shed, 

And, when the winde emon^st them did inspyre, 


The Faerie Queene 

They waved like a penon wyde dispred, 

And low behinde her backe were scattered: 

And, whether art it were or heedlesse hap, 

As through the flouring forrest rash she fled, 

In her rude heares sweet flowres themselves did lap. 
And flourishing fresh leaves and blossomes did enwrap. 

XXXI. Such as Diana by the sandy shore 

Of swift Eurotas, or on Cynthus greene, 

Where all the Nyniphes have her unwarcs forlore, 
Wandreth alone with bow and arrowes keene, 

To seeke her game : Or as that famous Queene 
Of Amazons, whom Pyrrhus did destroy, 

Tlie day that first of Priame she was scene. 

Did shew her sclfe in great triumphant joy. 

To succour the weake state of sad afflicted Troy. 

XXXII. Such when as hartlesse Trompart her did vew, 

He was dismayed in his coward mi rule, 

And doubted whether he himselfe should shew, 

Or fly away, or bide alone behinde; 

Both feare and hope he in her face did finde: 

When she at last him spying thus bespake: 

‘‘ Hayle, Groome ! didst not thou see a bleeding Hyndc, 
Whose right haunch earst my stedfast arrow strake? 
If thou didst, tell me, that I may her overtake.” 

xxxiir. Wherewith reviv’d, this answere forth he threw: 

“ O Goddesse, (for such I thee take to bee) 

For nether doth thy face terrestriall shew, 

Nor voyce sound mortall; I avow to thee. 

Such wounded beast as that I did not see, 

Sith earst into this forrest wild I came. 

But mote thy goodlyhed forgive it mec, 

To weete which of the gods I shall thee name, 

That unto thee dew worship I may rightly frame.’ 

XXXIV. To whom she thus — but ere her words ensewd. 

Unto the bush her eye did suddein glaunce. 

In which vaine Braggadocchio was mewd. 

And saw it stirre : she lefte her percing launce. 

And towards gan a deadly shafte advaunce, 

In mind to marke the beast. At which sad stowre 

Book II — Canto III* 205 

Trompart forth slept to stay the mortal! chaunce, 

Out crying; ** O! what ever hevenly powre, 

Or earthly w'ight thou be, withhold this deadly howre. 

XXXV. “ O! stay thy hand; for yonder is no game 
For thy fiers arrowes, them to exercize ; 

But loe! my Lord, my liege, whose warlike name 
Is far renow'md through many bold emprize ; 

And now in shatic he shrowded yonder lies.” 

She staid; with that he erauld out of his nest, 

Forth creeping on his caitive hands and ihies; 

And, standing stoutly ii^, Ids Kifty crest 

Did fiercely shake, and rowze xs comming late from rest, 

XXXVI. As fearfull fowle, that long in secret cave 

For dread of soring hauke her selfe hath hid, 

Nor caring how, her silly life to save, 

She her gay painted plumes disorderid ; 

Seeing at hist her selfe from duunger rid, 

Peepes forth , and soone renews her native pride : 

She gins her feathers fowle disfigured 
Prowdly to prune, and sett on every side; 

She shakes off shame, ne thinks how erst she did her hide. 

XXXVII. So when her goodly visage he beheld, 

He gan himselfe to vaunt; hut, when he vcwrl 
Those deadly tooles which in her hand she held, 

Soone into other fitts he was transmew'd, 

Till she to him her gracious spt^ach renewd; 

” All haile, Sir knight! and wtII may thee l)efall, 

As all the like, which honor have pursewd 
Through deeds of armes and prciwcsse martiall. 

All vertue merits praise, but such the most of all.” 

XXXVIII. To whom he thus; “ O fairest under skie! 

Trew be thy words, and w'orthy of thy praise. 

That warlike feats doest highest glorifie. 

Therein I have spent all my youthly dales, 

And many battailes fought and many fraies 
Throughout the world, wher-so they might be found, 
Endevoring my dreatJed name to raise 
Above the Moonc, that fame may it resound 
In her etemall tromp, with laiircll girlond cround. 

2o6 The Faerie Queene 

XXXIX. “ But what art thou, O Lady ! which doest raunge 
In this wilde forest, where no pleasure is, 

And doest not it for joyous court exchaunge, 

Emongst thine equall peres, where happy blis 
And all delight does raigne, much more then this? 
There thou maist love, and dearly loved be. 

And swim in pleasure, which thou here doest mis: 
There maist thou best be scene, and best maist see : 
The wood is fit for beasts, the court is fitt for thee/’ 

XL. ‘‘ VVho-so in pompe of prowd estate ” (quoth she) 

“ Does swim, and bathes him selfe in courtly blis. 
Docs waste his dayes in darke obscuritee. 

And in oblivion ever buried is; 

Where ease abownds yt’s eath to doe amis : 

But who his limbs with labours, and his mynd 
Behaves with cares, cannot so easy mis. 

Abroad in armes, at home in studious kynd. 

Who seckes with painfull toilc shall honor soonest fynd . 

XLi. ** In woods, in waves, in warres, she wonts to dwell. 
And wil be found with perill and with paine; 

Ne can the man that moulds in ydle cell 
Unto her happy mansion attaine : 

Before her gate high God did Sweate ordaine. 

And wakefull watches ever to abide; 

But easy is the way and passage plaine 
To pleasures pallace; it may soone be spide. 

And day and night her dorcs to all stand open wide. 

XLii. “ In Princes court ” — The rest she would have sayd. 
But that the foolish man, fild with delight 
Of her sweete words that all his sence dismayd, 

And with her wondrous beauty ravisht quight, 

Gan burne in filthy lust; and, leaping light, 

Thought in his bastard armes her to embrace. 

With that she, swarving backe, her Javelin bright 
Against him lx*nt, and fiercely did menace: 

So turned her about, and fled away apace. 

XLiii. Which when the Pesaunt saw, amazd he stood. 

And grieved at her flight; yet durst he nott 
Pursew her steps through wild unknowen wood : 


Book Il-^Canto III 

Besides he feard her wrath, and threalned shott, 

Whiles in the bush he lay, not yett forgott: 

Ne car’d he greatly for her presenc'e vayne, 

But turning said to Trompart; “ What fowle blott 
Is this to knight, that Lady shtndd agayne 
Depart to woods untoucht, and leave so proud disdayne.” 

XLIV. “ Perdy/’ (said Trompart) “ lt‘tt her ]>as at will, 

Least by her presence daunger mote Ixdall ; 

For who can tell (and sure I feare it ill) 

But that shee is some powre celcstiall ? 

For whiles she spake her jfreat words did ap[)all 
My feeble corage, and my heart oppresse, 

That yet I quake and tremble over-all." 

And I,” (said Braggadocthio) “ thought no lessc, 

When first I heard her horn sound with such ghastlinrssc, 

XLV, For from my mothers wombe this grace I ha\e 
Me given by eternall destiny, 

That earthly thing may not my rorage brave 
Dismay with feare, or cause one foot to live, 

But either hellish feends, or powres on hye: 

Which was the cause, when earst that home I heard, 
Weening it had becne thunder in the skye, 

I hid my selfc from it, as one afTeard; 

But, when I other knew, my self I lK)Mly reard. 

XLVI. “ But now, for feare of worse that may lictide, 

Let us soone hence depart.” They soone agree: 

So to his steed he gott, and gan to ride 
As one unfitt therefore, that all might sec 
He had not trayned Ixme in chcvalrec. 

Which well that valiaunt courser did discerne; 

For he despisd to trearl in dew degree, 

But chaufd and fom’d with corage fiers and steme, 

And to be easd of that base burden still did erne. 


The Faerie Queene 


Guyon does Furor bind in chaincs, 

And stops occasion : 

Delivers Phaon, and therefore 
By strife is rayld uppon, 

I. In brave poursuitt of honorable deed, 

There is I know not (what) great difference 
Betweene the vulgar and the noble seed, 

Which unto things of valorous pretence 
Seemes to be borne by native influence ; 

As feates of armes, and love to entertaine : 

But chiefly skill to ride seemes a science 
Proper to gentle blood : some others faine 

To menage steeds, as did this vaunter, but in vainc. 

II. But he, the rightfull owner of that steede, 

Who well could menage and subdew his pride, 

The whiles on foot was forced for to yeed 
With that blacke Palmer, his most trusty guide. 

Who suffred not his wandring feete to slide ; 

But when strong passion, or weake fleshlincsse. 

Would from the right way seeke to draw him wide, 

He would, through tempcraunce and stedfastnesse. 
Teach him the weak to strengthen, and the strong suppresse. 

III. It fortuned, forth faring on his way, 

He saw from far, or seemed for to see. 

Some troublous uprore or contentious fray. 

Whereto he drew in hast it to agree. 

A mad man, or that feigned mad to bee. 

Drew by the heare along upon the grownd 
A handsom stripling with great crueltee. 

Whom sore he bett, and gor’d with many a wownd. 
That chcekes with teares, and sydes with blood, did all 

IV. And him behynd a wicked Hag did stalke. 

In ragged rol^s and filthy disaray; 

Her other leg was lame, that she no’te walke. 


Book II — Canto IV 

But on a staffe her feeble steps did stay; 

Her lockes, that loathly were and hoarie gray, 

Grew all afore, and loosely hong unrold; 

But all behinde was bald, and worne away. 

That none thereof could ever taken hold ; 

And eke her face ill-favourd, full of wrincklcs old. 

V. And ever as she went her toung did walke 
In fowlc reproch, and termes of vile despight, 
Provoking him, by her outnigenus talke. 

To heapc more vengeance on that wreuhed wight : 
Sometimes she raughl limestones, wherwilh !»» smite, 
Sometimes her sUiffo, though it her one leg wi le, 
Withouten whi(*h she could not goe upright; 

Ne any evill meanes she did forlnMre, 

That might him move t(» wrath, luid imlignation reare. 

VI. The noble Giiyon, mov’d with great remorse, 
Approching, first the Ilag did thrust away; 

And after, adding more impetuous forse, 

His mighty hands did on the madman lav. 

And pluckt him hacke; >\ho, al! on fire streight way, 
Against him turning all his fell intent. 

With l>castly brutish rage him assay, 

And smott, and hilt, and kickt, and siT.itc ht, and rent, 
And did he wist not wliat in his avengimient. 

'HI. And sure he was a man of mickle might, 

Had he had govcrnaunce it well to guyde; 

But, when the frantick fitt inflamd his spright. 

His force was vaine, and slrooke more often wyde, 
Then at the aymed markc which he had cyde: 

And oft himselfc he chaunst to hurt unwares, 

Why lest reason, blent through passion, nought descryde ; 
But, as a blindfold Bull, al ninilon fares, 

And where he hits nought knuwes, and whom he hurts 
nought cares. 

vin. His rude assault and rugged handcling 

Straunge seemed to the knight, that aye with foc 
In fayre defence and goodly menaging 
Of armes was wont to fight ; yet nathemoe 
Was he abashed now, not fighting so ; 

But more enfierced through his currish play. 


The Faerie Queene 

Him sternly grypt, and hailii^ to and fro. 

To overthrow him strongly did assay. 

But overthrew him selfe unwares, and lower lay : 

IX. And being downe the villein sore did beate 
And bruze with clownish fistes his manly face ; 

And eke the Hag, with many a bitter threat. 

Still cald upon to kill him in the place. 

With whose reproch, and odious menace, 

The knight emboyling in his haughtie hart 
Knitt all his forces, and gan soone unbrace 
His grasping hold : so lightly did upstart, 

And drew his deadly weapon to maintaine his part. 

X. Which when the Palmer saw, he loudly cryde, 

** Not so, O Guyon ! never thinke that so 
That Monster can be maistred or destroyd : 

He is not, ah ! he is not such a foe, 

As Steele can wound, or strength can overthroe. 

That same is Furor, cursed cruel wight. 

That unto knighthood workes much shame and woe; 
And that same Hag, his aged mother, hight 
Occasion; the roote of all wrath and despight. 

XI. “ With her, whoso will raging Furor tame. 

Must first begin, and well her amenage : 

First her restraine from her rcprochfull blame 
And evill meanes, with which she doth enrage 
Her frantick sonne, and kindles his corage ; 

Then, when she is withdrawne or strong withstood. 
It’s eath his ydle fury to as wage. 

And calme the tempest of his passion wood : 

The bankes are overflowne when stopped is the flood. 

XII. Therewith Sir Guyon left his first emprise. 

And, turning to that woman, fast her hent 
By the hoare lockes that hong before her eyes. 

And to the ground her threw : yet n’ould she stent 
Her bitter rayling and foule revilement, 

But still provokt her sonne to wreake her wrong; 

But nathelesse he did her still torment, 

And, catching hold of her ungratious tonge 
Thereon an yron lock did fasten firme and strong. 

21 1 

Book II — Canto IV 

XIII. Then, whenas use of spcach was from her reft, 

With her two crooked handes she signes did make, 

And beckned him, the last help she had left; 

But he that last left helpe away did take, 

And both her handes fast Ixumd unto a stake, 

That she note stirre. Then gan her sonne to flyc 
Full fast away, and did her quite forsake; 

But Guyon after him in hast did hye, 

And soone him overtooke in sad jx^rplexityc. 

XIV. In his strong armes he stilly him cmhrasle. 

Who him gainstrix mg noitght at all prcvaild; 

For all his jxiwer was utterly defasle. 

And furious fitts at earst quite w'cren quaild; 

Oft he re’nforst, and oft his forces fayhl, 

Vet yield he wtmld not, nor his rancor slack. 

Then him to ground he cast, and rudely havld, 

And both his hands fast bound Udnnd his bm kc, 

And both his foot in fetters to an yron rackc. 

XV. With hundred yron chaines he did him bind, 

And hundred knots, that did him sore conslrame; 

Yet his great yron teeth he .still did grind 
And grimly gnash, threalning revenge in vainc: 

His burning eyen, whom bloody slrakes did sUiinc, 

Stared full wide, and threw forth sparkes of lyre; 

And more for ranck <lcspight then for great paine, 

Shakt his long locks colourd like cop]xT-wyre, 

And bitt his Uwny l>card to shew his niging yrc. 

XVI. Thus when as Guyon Furor had raj)tivd, 

Turning alxiut he saw that wretched .Squyre, 

Whom that mad man of life nigh late deprivd, 

Lying on ground, all soild with blood and my re: 

Whom whenas he perceived to respyre, 

He gan to comfort, and his woundes to dresse. 

Being at last recured, he gan inquyre 

What hard mishap him brought to such distrcsse, 

And made that cay tives thrall, the thrall of wrctchcdncssc. 

XVII With hart then throbbing, and with watiy eyes, 

“ Fayre Sir (quoth he) What man can shun the hap, 
That hidden lyes unwares him to surprysc? 

2 1 2 

The Faerie Queene 

Misfortune waites advantage to entrap 
The man most wary in her whelming lap: 

So me weake wretch, of many weakest one, 

Unweeting and unware of such mishap, 

She brought to mischiefe through Occasion, 

Where this same wicked villein did me light upon. 

XVIII. “ It was a faithlesse Squire, that was the sourse 
Of all my sorrow and of these sad teares, 

With whom from tender dug of commune nourse 
Attonce I was upbrought; and eft, when yeares 
More rype us reason lent to chose our Peares, 

Our selves in league of vowed love wee knitt; 

In which we long time, without gealous feares 
Or faultie thoughts, contynewd as was fitt; 

And for my part, I vow, dissembled not a whitt. 

XIX. ** It was my fortune, commune to tliat age. 

To love a Lady fayre of great degree, 

The which was borne of noble parentage, 

And set in highest seat of dignitee, 

Yet seemd no lesse to love then lov’d to bee: 

Long I her serv’d, and found her faithful still, 

Ne ever thing could cause us disagree. 

Love, that two harts makes one, makes eke one will; 
Each strove to please, and others pleasure to fulfill. 

XX. “ My friend, hight Philemon, I did partake 
Of all my love and all my privitie ; 

Who greatly joyous seemed for my sake. 

And gratious to that Lady as to mee ; 

Ne ever wight that mote so welcome bee 
As he to her, withouten blott or blame; 

He ever thing that she could think or see. 

But unto him she would impart the same. 

O wretched man, that would abuse so gentle Darnel 

XXI. “ At last such grace I found, and meanes I wrought, 
That I that Lady to my sp)ouse had wonne ; 

Accord of friendes, consent of Parents sought, 
Affyaunce made, my happinesse begonne. 

There wanted nought but few rites to be donne. 

Which mariage make: that day too farre did seeme. 


Book II — Canto IV 

Most joyous man, on whom the shining Sunnc 
Did shew his face, my sclfc I did estecmc, 

And that my falser friend did no less joyous decme. 

XXII. “ But ear that wished day his beame discJosd, 

He, either envying my towanl good, 

Or of him selfe to treason ill dis|K)sed, 

One day unto me came in friendly mood. 

And told for secret, how he understood 
Tl\at Lady, whom I had to me assynd, 

Had lx)th disUind her honorable blood. 

And eke the faith which she to me did bvnd: 

And therefore wisht me slay till I more truth should fynd 

XXIII. “ The gnawing anguish, and sharp gelosv, 

Which his siul spcach infixeil in my hrest, 

Ranckled so sore, and festred inwardly, 

That my engreeved mind could find no rest. 

Till that the truth thereof I did out wrest ; 

And him besought, by that same sacred band 
Betwixt us both, to counsell me the l)est : 

He then with solemne oath and plighted hand 
Assurd, ere long the truth to let me understand. 

XXIV. “ Ere long with like againc he boorded mec, 

Saying, he now had boultcd all the tloiire. 

And that it was a groome of base d» gree, 

Which of my love was partener P.iramoure: 

Who used in a darkesomc inner Ixjwrt* 

Her oft to mcete: which Ix tter to approve. 

He promised to bring me at that how re. 

When I shoiiM see tliat would me nearer move. 

And drive me to withdraw my blinrl abused love. 

XXV. “ This gracclessc man, for furtherance of his guile, 

Did court the handmayd of my l>ady dearc, 

Who, glad t’ emlxisome his affection vile, 

Did all she might more pleasing to appearc. 

One day, to worke her to his will mf)rc nearc, 

He woo’d her thus: Pryene, (so she hight,) 

What great despight doth fortune to thee bcarc, 

Thus lowly to abase thy beautic bright, 

That it should not deface ail others lesser light. ^ 

214 Faerie Queene 

XXVI. ** But if she had her least helpe to thee lent, 

T’adome thy forme according thy desart, 

Their blazing pride thou wouldest soone have blent, 
And staynd their prayses with thy least good part; 

Ne should faire Claribell with all her art, 

Tho’ she thy Lady be, approch thee nearer 
For proofe thereof, this evening, as thou art, 

Aray thyselfe in her most gorgeous geare, 

That I may more delight in thy embracement deare. 

XXVII. “ The Mayden, proud through praise and mad througli 
love, *' 

Him hearkned to, and soone her sclfe arrayd, 

The whiles to me the treachour did remove 
His craftie engin; and, as he had sayd. 

Me leading, in a secret corner layd. 

The sad spectatour of my Tragedie: 

Where left, he went, and his owne false part playd. 
Disguised like that groome of base degree. 

Whom he had feignd th’ abuser of my love to bee. 

XXVIII. Eftsoones he came unto th' appointed place. 

And with him brought Pryene, rich arayd, 

In Claribellacs clothes. Her proper face 
I not descerncd in that darkesome shade. 

But weend it was my love with whom he playd. 

Ah God ! what horrour and tormenting griefe 
My hart, my handes, mine eies, and all assay d ! 

Me liefer were ten thousand dcathes priefe 
Then woiinde of gealous worme, and shame of such 

XXIX. “ I home retourning, fraught with fowle despight. 

And chawing vcngeaunce all the way I went, 

Soone as my loathed love appeard in sight, 

With wrathfull hand I slew her innocent. 

That after soone I dearely did lament; 

For, when the cause of that outrageous deede 
Demaunded, I made plaine and evident, 

Her faultie Handmayd, which that bale did breede. 
Contest how Philemon her wrought to chaunge her 

Book II — Canto IV 215 

XXX. ** Which when I heard, with horrible affright 
And hellish fury all enragd, I sought 
Upon myselfc that vengeable despight 
To punish: yet it better first 1 thought 
To wreake my wrath on him that first ‘t wrought: 

To Philemon, false f.iytour Philemon, 

I cast to pay that I '^o dcarely lx)ught. 

Of deadly drugs I gave him drinke anon, 

And washt away his guilt with guilty ptUion. 

XXXI. “ Thus heaping crime on crime, and griefe on griefe, 

To losse of love adjoynir/J; Iosm* of frend, 

I meant to purge Ixilh with a third mischiefc, 

And in my woes beginner it to end: 

That was Pryenc; she did first t>tTend, 

She last should smart: with which cnicll intent, 
iVhen 1 at her my murdrous blade did bend, 

She flc'd away with gh.isllv drenment, 

And 1, poursewing my fell purpose, after went. 

XXXli. “ Feare gave her winges, and rage enforst my flight; 
Through woods and plaines so long I did her chacc, 

Till this mad man, whom your vk torious might 
Hath ncov fast bound, me met in middle space. 

As I ber, so he me poursewd apaee. 

And short Iv overtooke- I, breathing vre, 

Sore cluxuffed at nn stav in such .i c a* 

And with mv he. it kindIcMl his i nn 11 f>re; 

Which kindled once, his mollicr did more rage inspyre. 

XXXin. “ Betwixt them both they have me doi n to dye, 

Through wciunds. .ind strokes, and stiibborne handeling, 
That death wc re better then sue li agony 
As griefe and fury unto me did l»ring; 

Of which in me yet sta ke's thc' inorlall stmg, 

That during life will never Ik: appeased! 

When he thus ended had his sorrowing, 

Said Guyon; “ Squyre, sore luive ye be< ne diseasd, 

But all your hurls may .soonc through temperance Ik? 

XXXIV. Then gan the Palmer thus; “ Most wretched man. 
That to affections does the bridle lend ! 

In their beginning they arc wcake and wan, 


The Faerie Queene 

But soone through sufferance growe to fearefull end : 
Whiles they are weake, betimes with them contend ; 
For, when they once to perfect strength do grow, 
Strong warres they make, and cruell battry bend 
Gainst fort of Reason, it to overthrow: 

Wrath, gelosy, griefe, love, this Squyre have laide thus 

XXXV. “ Wrath, gealosie, griefe, love, do thus expell: 

Wrath is a fire; and gealosie a weede; 

Griefe is a flood; and love a monster fell; 

The fire of sparkes, the weede of little seede. 

The flood of drops, the Monster filth did breeder 
But sparks, seed, drops, and filth, do thus delay; 

The sparks soone quench, the springing seed outweed, 
The drops dry up, and filth wipe cleane away : 

So shall wrath, gealosy, griefe, love, die and decay.” 

XXXVI. ** Unlucky Squire,” (saide Guyon) sith thou hast 
Falne into mischiefe through intemperaunce, 
Henceforth take heede of that thou now hast past^ 
And guyde thy waies with warie govemaunce. 

Least worse betide thee by some later chaunce. 

But read how art thou nam’d, and of what kin? ” 

“ Phaon I hight,” (quoth he) ” and do advaunce 
Mine auncestry from famous Coradin, 

Who first to rayse our house to honour did begin.” 

XXXVII. Thus as he spake, lo ! far away they spyde 
A varlet ronning towardes hastily. 

Whose flying feet so fast their way apply de. 

That round about a cloud of dust did fly, 

Which, mingled all with sweate, did dim his eye. 

He soone approched, panting, breathlesse, whot, 

And all so soy Id that none could him descry : 

His countenance was bold, and bashed not 
ForGuyons lookes,butscomefull eyeglaunceathimshot 

xxxvni. Behind his backe he bore a brasen shield. 

On which was drawen faire, in colours fit, 

A flaming fire in midst of bloody field, 

And round about the wreath this word w^ writ. 
Burnt 1 doe burnt. Right well beseemed it 
To be the shield of some redoubted knight; 

Book II — Canto IV 217 

And in his hand two dartes, exceeding flit 

And deadly shaipe, he held, w'hosc heads were dight 

In poyson and in blood of malice and despight. 

xxxix. When he in presence came, to Guyon first 

He boldly spake; “ Sir knight, if knight thou bet, 
Almndon this forestalled place at erst. 

For feare of further harme, I coiinsell thee ; 

Or bide the chaunce at thine ownc jeopardcc,** 

The knight at his great lH)ldnesse wondered; 

And, though he scomd his ydle vanitec. 

Yet mildly him to purpose answered; 

For not to grow of nought he it conjectured. 

XL. “ Varlet, this place most dew to me I deeme, 

Yielded by him that held it forcibly : 

But whence should come that harme, which thou dost 

To threat to him that mindcs his chaunc'e t’ abyi ? ** 

“ Perdy,” (sayd he) ** here comes, and is hard by, 

A knight of wondrous powre and great assiiy, 

That never yet encountred enemy 

But did him deadly daunt, or fowle dismay; 

Ne thou for better hope, if thou his pn^seiKT stay.** 

XII. “How hight he then,’* (said (iuyon) “and from 
whence ? ’* 

“ Pyrochles is his name, renowmed furre 
For his bold feates and hardv c onfidence, 

Full oft approvd in many a < nieil warre; 

The l)rotlier of Cymochles, both which arre 
The sonnes of old Aerates and Despight; 

Aerates, sonne of I^hlegeton and Jarre; 

But Pblcgeton is sonne of IfcTcbus and Night; 

But Ilcrebus sonne of Actermtic is higlil. 

XLll. “ So from immortall race he docs procecdc, 

That mortall hands may not wilhsUind his might, 

Drad for his derring doe and bloody deed ; 

For all in blood and spoile is his delight. 

His am I Atin, his in wrong and right, 

That matter make for him to workc upon, 

And stirre him up to strife and cruell fight. 


The Faerie Queene 

Fly therefore, fly this fearefull stead anon, 

L^t thy foolhardize worke thy sad confusion.” 

XLiii. ** His be that care, whom most it doth conceme,” 
(Sayd he) “ but whither with such hasty flight 
Art thou now bownd? for well mote I disccrne 
Great cause, that carries thee so swifte and light.” 

“ My Lord,” (quoth he) ‘‘ me sent, and streight behight 
To seeke Occasion, where so she bee; 

For he is all disposd to bloody fight. 

And breathes out wrath and hainous crueltee: 

Hard is his hap that^rst fals in his jeopardee.” 

XLiv. “ Mad man,” (said then the Palmer) “ that does seeke 
Occasion to wrath, and cause of strife : 

Shee comes unsought, and shonned followcs eke. 
Happy 1 who can abstaine, when Rancor rife 
Kindles Revenge, and threats his rusty knife. 

Woe never wants where every cause is caught; 

And rash Occasion makes unquiet life I ” 

” Then loe I wher bound she sits, whom thou hast 

Said Guyon: ** let that message to thy Lord be 

XLV. That when the varlett heard and saw, streight way 
He wexed wondrous wroth, and said; “ Vile knight, 
That knights and knighthood doest with shame upbray, 
And shewst th’ ensample of thy childishe might. 

With silly weake old woman that did fight! 

Great glory and gay spoile, sure hast thou gott. 

And stoutly proved thy puissaunce here in sight. 

That shall Pyrochles well requite, I wott. 

And with thy blood abolish so reprochfull blott.” 

XLVI. With that one of his thrillant darts he threw, 

Headed with yrc and vengeable despight. 

The quivering steele his aymed end wel knew, 

And to his brest it selfe intended right: 

But he was wary, and, ere it empight 

In the meant marke, advaunst his shield atweene. 

On which it seizing no way enter might. 

But backe rebownding left the forckhead keene: 
Eftsoones he fled away, and might no where be seene. 

Book II — Canto V 



P\Torhles d«*es \Mth C>iivon 
And Furore chavno uiitvos. 

Who him sort* wounds whilrs Aim lo 
Cyrn*H'hk*s f- r a\d tUfs. 

I. Who ever dtitli lo tcm[>eraunrt‘ ap|>lv 
His stccUast life, and all^iis actunis frame, 

Trust me, shal find no jijreatcr enirny 
llien stubbornc jHTluri>alion lo ihe same; 

To which right wel tlie wise doc give that name, 

For it the goodly peace of staled mindes 
Does overthrow, and troublous warre proclamc: 

His ow'nc woes author, who so Innind it findes, 

As did Pyrochles, and it wilfully unbmdcs. 

II. After that varlcts flight, it wjis not long 
Ere on the plainc fast pricking (iuyon spidc 
One in bright armes cmbatlcilcd full strong, 

That, as the Sunny bcames do glaunce and glide 
Upon the trembling wave, so shined bright, 

And round alxiut him threw forth sparkling fire, 

That seemd him to enflame on everv side; 

His steed was bloody red, and fomed yrc, 

When with the maistring spur he did him roughly stirc. 

III. Approching nigh, he never staid to grccte, 

Ne chaflar words, prowd corage to provoke. 

But prickt so Tiers, that underneath his fectc 
The smouldring dust did rownd aU)ut him smoke, 
Both horse and man nigh able ff>r to chfike; 

And fayrly couching his stecichcaded spniare, 

Him first saluted with a sturdy stroke: 

It booted nought Sir Guyon, comming nearc, 

To thincke such hideous puissannce on foot to beare; 

IV. But lightly shunned it; and, passing by, 

With his bright blade did smite at him so fell. 

That the sharpe Steele, arriving forcibly 


The Faerie Queene 

On his broad shield^ bitt not, but glauncing fell 
On his horse necke before the quilted sell. 

And from the head the body sundred quight. 

So him dismounted low he did compell 
On foot with him to matchen equall fight: 

The truncked beast fast bleeding did him fowly dight. 

V. Sore bruzed with the fall he slow uprose. 

And all enraged thus him loudly shent; 

“ Disleall Knight, whose coward corage chose 
To wreake it selfe on beast all innocent, 

And shund the marke it which it should be ment; 
Therby thine armes seem strong, but manhood fray I : 
So hast thou oft with guile thine honor blent; 

But litle may such guile thee now avayl. 

If wonted force and fortune doe me not much fayl.” 

VI. With that he drew his flaming sword, and strooke 
At him so fiercely, that the upper marge 
Of his sevcnfolded shield away it tooke. 

And, glauncing on his helmet, made a large 
And open gash therein: were not his targe 
That broke the violence of his intent, 

The weary sowle from thence it would discharge; 
Nathclesse so sore a buff to him it lent. 

That made him rcele, and to his brest his bever bent. 

VII. Exceeding wroth was Guyon at that blow, 

And much ashamd that stroke of living arme 
Should him dismay, and make him stoup so low, 
Though otherwise it did him litle harme : 

Tho, hurling high his yron braced arme. 

He smote so manly on his shoulder plate. 

That all his left side it did quite disarme; 

Yet there the steel stayd not, but inly bate 
Deepe in his flesh, and opened wide a red floodgate. 

VIII. Deadly dismayd with horror of that dint 
Pyrochles was, and grieved eke entyre ; 

Yet nathemore did it his fury stint, 

But added flame unto his former fire. 

That wel nigh molt his hart in raging yre: 

Ne thenceforth his approved skill, to ward. 

22 1 

Book II — Canto V 

Or strike, or hurtle rownd in warlike g\Te, 

Remcmbred he, ne car*d for his saufgard, 

But rudely rag’d, and like a cruell tygre fivr'd. 

IX. He hewd, and lasht, anil foynd, and thor.<lrcd blowes, 
And every way did seoke into his life; 

Ne plate, ne male, co\ild ward so mighty throwcs, 

But yielded passage to his cruell knile. 

But Giiyon, in the heat of all hLs strife, 

Was wary wise, and closely <lid awayt 
Avauntage, wildest his foe did rage most rife: 
Sometimes athwart, sometimes he strook him stravt. 
And falsed oft his hlowcs t’ illudc him with such bayt 

X. Like as a Lyon, whose imperiall powre 
A prowd rebellious Unicorn defyes, 

T’ avoide the rash assault and wrathful stowrc 
Of his Tiers foe, him to a tree applyes, 

And when him running in full he spvcs, 

He slips aside; the whiles that furious IxMst 
His precious home, sought of his enimyes, 

Strikes in the stockc, ne thence can be re least, 

But to the mighty victor yields a Ixiunteous feast. 

XI. With such faire sleight him Guyon often fayld, 

Till at the hest all breathles«;e, weary, faint, 

Him spying, with fresh onsett he assayld, 

And kindling new his corage seeming queint, 

Strooke him so hugely, that through great constraint 
He made him stoup perforce unto his knee. 

And doe unwilling worship to the .Saint, 

That on his shield depainted he did sec: 

Such homage till that instant never learned hcc. 

XII. Wliom Guyon seeing stmip, poursewed fast 
The present offer of faire victory. 

And soone his dreicdfiill blade alxmt he cast, 

WTierewith he smote his haughty crest sr> hyc, 

That streight on grownd made him full low to lyc; 

Then on his brest his victor foote he thrust: 

With that he cryde, “ Mercy I doc me not dye, 

Ne deeme thy force by fortunes doomc unjust, 

That hath (maugre her spight) thus low me laid in dust.’* 


The Faerie Queene 

XIII. Eftsoones his cruel hand Sir Guyon stayd, 

Tempring the passion with advizement slow, 

And maistring might on enimy dismayd ; 

For th’ equall die of warre he well did know: 

Then to him said, “ Live, and alleagaunce owe 
To him that gives thee life and liberty; 

And henceforth by this daies ensample trow. 

That hasty wroth, and heedlesse hazardry, 

Doe breede repentaunce late, and lasting infamy.*’ 

XIV. So up he let him rise; who, with grim looke 

And count’naunce sterne, upstanding, gan to grind 
His grated teeth for great disdeigne, and shooke 
His sandy lockes, long hanging downe behind. 

Knotted in blood and dust, for grief of mind 
That he in ods of armes was conquered : 

Yet in himsclfe some comfort he did find. 

That him so noble knight had maystered ; 

Whose bounty more then might, yet both, he wondered. 

XV. Which Guyon marking said, “ Be nought agriev’d, 

Sir knight, that thus ye now subdewed arre: 

Was never man, who most conquestes atchiev’d, 

But sometimes had the worse, and lost by warre, 

Yet shortly gaynd that lossc exceeded farre. 

Lossc is no shame, nor to bee lesse then foe; 

But to bee lesser than himselfe doth marre 
Both loosers lott, and victours prayse alsoe: 

Vaine others overthrowes who selfe doth overthrow. 

XVI. “ Fly, O Pyrochlos! fly the dreadfull warre 
That in thy selfe thy lesser partes do move; 
Outrageous anger, and woe-working jarre, 

Direfull impatience, and hart-murdring love: 

Those, those thy foes, those warriours far remove. 
Which thee to endlosse bale captived lead. 

But sith in might thou didst my mercy prove, 

Of courtesie to mee the cause aread 

That thee against me drew with so impetuous dread.” 

XVII. “ Dreadlcsse,” (said he) “ that shall I soone declare. 

It was complaind that thou hadst done great tort 
Unto an aged woman, poore and bare. 


Book II— Canto V 

And thralled her in chaines with strong effort, 

Voide of all succour and needfiill comfort; 

That ill besfcmes thee, such as I thee see, 

To workc such shame. Therefore, I thee exhort 
To chaimce thy will, and set Occiision free, 

And to her captive sonne yield hLs first lilx rtce.** 

XVIII. Thereat Sir Chiyon sinylde, “ .\iul is that all. 

(Said he) “ that thee so sore disj>Kased hath? 

Great mercy, sure, for to t niarge a thrall, 

Whose freedom shall thee turne to greatest scath! 

Nath’ lesse now quench tlw^’ wholi t rulmyling wrath: 

I^e! there they bee; to thee 1 yiiM them fne.'' 

Thereat he, wondrous glad, out of tlu* path 
Did lightly 1< ape, wlu n* he tliem Iniund th«l see. 

And gan to breakc* the bamls of their captivitee. 

XIX. Soone as Occasion felt her selfe imtyde, 

Before her sonne could will assoyled lice, 

She to her use returnd, and streight defyde 
Ih)th Guyon and Pyroddes ; th’ one (said shec) 

Bycausc he wonne ; the other, liecausi* hee 
Was wonne. So matter did she make of nought, 

To stirre up strife, and garre them ilisagrce; 

But, soone as Kuror was enlargd, she .sought 

To kindle his cjia ru ht fyre, ami thousand laiises wrought. 

XX. It was not long ere .she inflam'd him so, 

That he w'ould algates with Pyrm hies fight, 

And his redeemer chalengd for his foe, 

Because he had not well mainteind his right, 

But yielded had to that same straung< r knight. 

Now gan Pyrochles wex as wood as hee, 

And him affronted with impatient might: 

So both together ficrs engrasped bee, 

Whylcs Guyon standing by their uncouth strife does see. 

XXI. Him all that while Occasion did provoke 
Against Pyrochles, and new matter fram'd 
Upon the old, him stirring to bee wroke 
Of his late wronges, in which she oft him blam*d 
For suffering such abuse as knighthood sham’d. 

And him dishabled quyte. But he was wise. 


The Faerie Queene 

Ne would with vaine occasions be inflam’d; 

Yet others she more urgent did devise ; 

Yet nothing could him to impatience entise. 

XXII. Their fell contention still increased more, 

And more thereby increased Furors might, 

That he his foe has hurt and wounded sore. 

And him in blood and durt deformed quight. 

His mother eke, more to augment his spight, 

Now brought to him a flaming fyer brond, 

Which she in Stygian lake, ay burning bright, 

Had kindled: that sht gave into his bond, 

That armd with fire more hardly he mote him withstond 

XXIII. Tho gan that villein wex so fiers and strong, 

That nothing might sustaine his furious forse. 

He cast him downe to ground, and all along 
Drew him through durt and myre without remorse. 
And fowly battered his comely corse, 

That Guyon much disdeigned so loathly sight. 

At last he was compeld to cry perforse, 

Help, 0 Sir Guyon ! helpe, most noble knight. 

To ridd a wretched man from handes of hellish wight ! ” 

XXIV. The knight was greatly moved at his playnt, 

And gan him dight to succour his distresse. 

Till that the Palmer, by his grave restraynt. 

Him stayd from yielding pitifull redresse, 

And said; “ Deare sonne, thy causelesse ruth represse, 
Ne let thy stout hart melt in pitty vayne : 

He that his sorrow sought through wilfulnesse. 

And his foe fettred would release agayne, 

Deserves to taste his follies fruit, repented payne.” 

XXV. Guyon obayd: So him away he drew 
From needlcsse trouble of renewing fight 
Already fought, his voyage to poursew. 

But rash Pyrochles varlett, Atm hight. 

When late he saw his Lord in heavie plight 
Under Sir Guyons puissaunt stroke to fall. 

Him deeming dead, as then he seemd in sight, 

Fledd fast away to tell his funerall 

Unto his brother, whom Cymochles men did call. 


Book II — Canto V 

XXVI. He was a man of rare redoubted might, 

Famous throughout the world for warlike prayse, 

And glorious spoiles, purrhast in perilous fight: 

Full many doughtie kmghtes he in his dayes 
Had doen to death, suhilewdc in cquaP irayes 
WTiose carkases, for terrour of his name, 

Of fowles and Ix'ai-'tes he made the piteous pr.ivcs, 
And hong tlieir conquered armes, for more defame, 

On gallow trees, in honour of his clearest Dame. 

XXVII. II is dearest Dame is that Knclviuntercsse, 

The vylc .\cr*isia, lliat willi vaine dchghtes, 

And ydle pleasures in her Bowre of Blissc, 

Does charnie Iior lovers, and the feeble sprightes 
Can call out of the Nxiics of fraile wightes; 

Whom then she does transforme to monstrous hewrs, 
And horribly misshapes w 'xih ugly sightos, 

Gaptiv’d eternally in yron mewes 

And dark.som de ns, where 'filiin his fare never shewes, 

XXVIII. There Atin fownd ('vmochles sojourning, 

To serve his Lemans love: for he by kynd 
Was given all to lust and Uinse living, 

When ever his fiers handcs he free mole fvnd: 

And now he has pourd out his ydle myn<i 
In daintie delices, and lavish joyes, 

Having his warlike weapons cast lichynd, 

And flowes in pleasures and vainc pleasing toyes, 
Mingled emongst loose I-adics and lascivious lioyes. 

XXIX. And over him art, stryving to rompayre 
With nature, did an Arl>er greene dispred, 

Framed of w^anton Wie, flouring fay re, 

Through which the f’-agrant Kgl.intinc did spred 
His prickling armes, entrayld with roses red, 

Which daintie odours round about them threw: 

And all within with flowrcs was garnished, 

That, when myld Zephyrus emongst them blew, 

Did breath out lx)untcoussmeLs,and pain t€;d colors shew. 

XXX. And fast beside there trickled softly downe 

A gentle streame, whose murmuring wave did play 
Emongst the pumy stones, and made a sowne, 


The Faerie Queene 

To lull him soft asleepe that by it lay: 

The wearie Traveiler, wandring that way, 

Therein did often quench his thristy heat. 

And then by it his wearie limbes display. 

Whiles creeping slomber made him to forget 
His former payne, and wypt away his toilsom sweat. 

XXXI. And on the other syde a pleasaunt grove 
Was shott up high, full of the stately tree 
That dedicated is t’ Olympick Jove, 

And to his sonne Alcides, whenas hce 
In Nemus gayned goodly victoree : 

Therein the mery birdes of every sorte 
Chaunted alowd their chearefull harmonee, 

And made emongst them selves a sweete consort, 

That quickned the dull spright with musicall comfort. 

XXXII. There he him found all carelessly displaid. 

In secrete shadow from the sunny ray. 

On a sweet bed of lillies softly laid. 

Amidst a flock of Damzelles fresh and gay. 

That rownd about him dissolute did play 
Their wanton follies and light meriments: 

Every of which did loosely disaray 
Her upper partes of meet habiliments, 

And shewd them naked, deckt with many ornaments. 

XXXIII. And every of them strove with most delights 
Him to aggrate, and greatest pleasures shew: 

Some framd faire lookes, glancing like evening lights; 
Others sweet wordes, dropping like honny dew ; 

Some bathed kisses, and did soft embrew 
The sugred licour through his melting lips: 

One boastes her beau tie, and does yield to vew 
Her dainty limbes above her tender hips; 

Another her out boastes, and all for tryall strips. 

XXXIV. He, like an Adder lurking in the weedes, 

His wandring thought in deepe desire does steepe. 
And his fray le eye with spoyle of beauty feedes : 
Sometimes he falsely faines himselfe to sleepe, 

Whiles through their lids liis wanton eies do peepe 
To steale a snatch of amorous conceipt. 


Book II — Canto V 

WTiereby close fire into his heart does creepe: 

So he them deceives, deccivd in his deceipt, 

Made dronke with drugs of dcarc voluptuous receipt. 

XXXV. Atin, arriving there, when him he spyde 

Thus in still w’aves of docjx' delight to wade 
Fiercely approaching to him Inwdlv rrvde, 
“Cymochles; oh! no. but Cvmoehles 'shade, 

In which that manlv person iate did fade. 

W liat is become of great Aerates somie ? 

Or where liath he hong up his mortal 1 blade, 

That hath so many liaughtv conquests wonne? 

Is all his force forlorne, and all his glory donne? 

XXXVI. Then, pricking him with his sharp-pointed dart. 

He saide; “ Up, up! thou womanish weakc knight, 
That hero in Indies lap entomlx'd art, 

Unmindfull of thy praise an<l prowest might, 

And wcetlessc eke of lately wrought despight, 

Whiles sad l^yrochlcs lies on senc t lcssc ground, 

And groneth out his utmost gruilging spright 
Through many a stroke and many a streaming wound, 
Calling thy heipe in vainc that here in joyes art dround/’ 

XXXVII. Siiddeinly out of his delightfull dreamc 

The man awoke, and would luive questiond more; 

But he would not endure that wofull thcamc 
For to dilate at large, but urged sore, 

With pcrcing wordes and pittifull implore, 

Him hasty to arise. As one affright 
With hellish feends, or Furies made uproro. 

He then uprose, inflamd with fell despight, 

And called for his armes, for he would algatcs fight: 

XXXVIII. They bene ybrought; he quickly docs him dight, 

And lightly mounted passeth f>n his way ; 

Ne Ladies loves, ne sweete entreaties, might 
Appiease his heat, or hastie passage stay ; 

For he has vowd to bcene avengd that day 
(That day it sclfc him seemed all too long) 

On him, that did Pyrochles dcare dismay: 

So proudly pricketh on his courser strong. 

And Atin ay him pricks with spurs of shame and wrong. 


The Faerie Queene 


Guyon is of immodest Merth 
Led into hxise desyre; 

Fights wiih Cymochles, whiles his bro- 
ther burns in furious f>Tc. 

I. A HARDER lesson to leamc Continence 

In joyous pleasure then in grievous paine; 

For sweetnesse doth allure the weaker sence 
So strongly, that uneathes it can ref mine 
From that which feeble nature covets faine: 

But griefe and wrath, that be her enemies 
And foes of life, she letter can abstaine : 

Yet vertue vauntes in both her victories. 

And Guyon in them all shewes goodly maysteries. 

II. Whom bold Cymochles travelling to finde. 

With cruell purpose bent to wreake on him 
The wrath which Atin kindled in his mind. 

Came to a river, by whose utmost brim 
Wayting to passe, he saw whereas did swim 
Along the shore, as swift as glaunce of eye, 

A litlc Gondelay, bedecked trim 

With boughes and arbours woven cunningly. 

That like a litle forrest seemed outwardly. 

III. And therein sate a Lady fresh and fay re, 

Making sweet solace to herselfe alone : 

Sometimes she song as lowd as larke in ayre. 
Sometimes she laught, as merry as Pope Jone; 
Yet was there not with her else any one. 

That to her might move cause of meriment : 
Matter of merth enough, though there were none. 
She could devise ; and thousand waies invent 

To feede her foolish humour and vaine jolliment. 

IV. Which when far off Cymochles heard and saw. 

He lowdly cald to such as were abord 

The little barke unto the shore to draw. 


Book II — Canto VI 

And him to ferry over that deepc ford. 

The merry mariner unto his word 
Soone hcarkned, and her painted l>otc streight^*av 
Turnd to the shore, where that same warlike Ijord 
She in receiv’d; but Atin by no way 
She ivould admit, albe the knight licr much did pray. 

V. Eftsoones her shallow ship away dkl slide, 

More swift then swallow shores the liquid skyc, 
Withouten oare or Pilot it to guide, 

Or winged canvas with the wiiul to Hy : 

Onely she turnd a pin, antWhy anti by 
It cut away upon the yieltling wave, 

Nc cared slic her course for to apf>ly ; 

Tor it was Uiught the way which she would have. 

And both from rocks and flats it selfe ctiultl w isely save. 

VI. And all the way the wanton Damsel 1 found 
New merth her passenger to cntert.une; 

For she in plcasaunt purpose did abouncl, 

And greatly joyed mcrr>' tales to fame. 

Of wliich a store-house did with licr remaine: 

Yet seemed, nothing well they her lxH:ame; 

For all her wordes she drownd with laughter vainc. 
And wanted grace in ut tVing of the same, 

That turnd all her pleasaunce to a scolhng game. 

VII. And other whiles vaine toyes she would devize. 

As her fantasticke wit dici most delight: 

Sometimes her head she fondly would agnize 
With gaudy girlonds, or fresh tlowrels dight 
About her neckc, or rings of rushes plight: 
Sometimes, to do him laugh, she would assay 
To laugh at shaking of the leaves light 
Or to l>ehold the water worke an<l [)lay 
About her little frigot, therein making way. 

viii. Her light behaviour and loose «Jalliauncc 

Gave wondrous great contentment to the knight, 
That of his way he had no sovenaunce, 

Nor care of vow’d revenge and crucll fight, 

But to wcake wench did yield his martiall might: 
So easie was to quench his flamed minde 


The Faerie Queene 

With one sweete drop of sensual! delight. 

So easie is t* app>ease the stormy winde 
Of malice in the calme of pleasaunt womankind. 

IX. Diverse discourses in their way they spent; 

Mongst which Cymochles of her questioned 
Both what she was, and what that usage ment, 

Which in her cott she daily practized ? 

“ Vaine man/* (saide she) “ that wouldest be reckoned 
A straunger in thy home, and ignoraunt 
Of Phaedria, (for so my name is red) 

Of Phaedria, thine owne fellow servaunt; 

For thou to serve Acrasia thy selfe doest vaunt. 

X. “ In this wide Inland sea, that hight by name 
The Idle lake, my wandring ship I row, 

That knowes her port, and thither sayles by ayme, 

Ne care, ne feare I how the wind do blow. 

Or whether swift I wend, or whether slow : 

Both slow and swift alike do serve my toume; 

Ne swelling Neptune ne lowd thundring Jove 
Can chaunge my cheare, or make me ever moume: 

My little boat can safely passe this perilous bourne.** 

XI. Whiles thus she talked, and whiles thus she toyd. 

They were far past the passage which he spake. 

And come unto an Island waste and voyd, 

That floted in the midst of that great lake; 

There her small Gondelay her port did make. 

And that gay payre, issewing on the shore, 

Disburdned her. Their way they forward take 
Into the land that lay them faire before. 

Whose pleasaunce she him shewd, and plentifull great store. 

\n. It was a chosen plott of fertile land, 

Emongst wide waves sett, like a litle nest. 

As if it had by Natures cunning hand 
Bene choycely picked out from all the rest, 

And laid forth for ensample of the best: 

^ No daintie flowre or herbe that growes on grownd. 

No arborett with painted blossomes drest 

And smelling sweete, but there it might be fownd 

To bud out faire, and throwe her sweete smels al arownd 

Book II — Canto VI aji 

X21I. No tree whose hraunches did not bravclv spring; 

No braunch whereon a fine bird did not sitt ; 

No bird but did her shrill notes sweetely sing; 

No song but did containe a lovely ditt. 

Trees, braunches, birds, and songs, were framed filt 
For to allure fraile mind to carclcsse ease: 

Carelcsse the man soone woxe, and his weakc witt 
Wiis overcome of thing that did him please; 

So pleased did his wraihfull purpose fairc appease. 

XIV, Thus when shoe had his eves and sences fed 

With false delights, anc^fild with pleasures vayn, 

Into a shady dale she soft him led, 

And layd him downe upon a grassy plavn ; 

And her sweete selfe without dread or disdavn 
She sett beside, laying his head di5>;innd 
In her loose lap, it softly to susUiyn, 

Where soone he slumbre<l fearing not be harmd: 

The whiles with a love lay she thus him sweetly charmd 

XV. ** Behold, O man! that toilesomc paines doest take, 
The flowrs, the fields, and all that pleftsaunt growes, 
How they them selves doe thine ensample make, 
Whiles nothing envious nature them forth throwes 
Out of her fruit full lap; how no man knowxs, 

They spring, tliey bud, they blossome fresh ancl faire, 
And derke the world with their rich pompous showes; 
Yet no man for them taketh paines or rare. 

Yet no man to them can his carefull paines compare. 

XVI. “ The lilly, I^idy of the flowring fiekl, 

The flowre-deluce, her lovely Taramourc, 

Bid thee to them thy fruitlesse labors yield, 

And soone leave off this toylsome weary slourc: 

Ix)C, loc ! how Ijrave she decks her bounteous Ixiurc, 
With silkin curtens and gold roverlctts, 

Therein to shrowrl her .sumptuous Bclamoure; 

^’et nether spinnes nor cardes, nc cares nor frett.% 

But to her mother Nature all her care she IctLs. 

XVII. “ Why then doest thou, O man! that of them all 
Art Lord, and eke of nature Soveraine, 

Wilfully make thy selfe a wTctched thrall, 

232 The Faerie Queene 

And waste thy joyous howres in needlesse paine. 
Seeking for daunger and adventures vaine? 

What Bootes it al to have, and nothing use? 

Who shall him rew that swimming in the maine 
Will die for thrist, and water doth refuse? 

Refuse suchfruitlesse toile, and present pleasures chuse.’' 

XVIII. By this she had him lulled fast asleepe, 

That of no worldly thing he care did take : 

Then she with liquors strong his eies did steepe. 

That nothing should him hastily awake. 

So she him lefte, and did her selfe betake 
Unto her boat again, with which she clefte 
The slothfull wave of that great griesy lake : 

Soone shee that Island far behind her lefte. 

And now is come to that same place where first she wefte. 

XIX. By this time was the worthy Guyon brought 
Unto the other side of that wide strond 
Where she was rowing, and for passage sought. 

Him needed not long call; shee soone to bond 
Her ferry brought, where him she byding fond 
With his sad guide: him selfe she tooke aboord. 

But the Blacke Palmer suffred still to stond, 

Ne would for price or prayers once affoord 

To ferry that old man over the perlous foord. 

XX. Guyon was loath to leave his guide behind, 

Yet being entred might not backe retyre ; 

For the flitt barke, obaying to her mind, 

Forth launched quickly as she did desire, 

Ne gave him leave to bid that aged sire 
Adieu; but nimbly ran her wonted course 
Through the dull billowes thicke as troubled mire, 
Whom nether wind out of their seat could forse 

Nor timely tides did drive out of their sluggish sourse. 

XXI. And by the way, as was her wonted guize. 

Her mery fitt shee freshly gan to reare. 

And did of joy and jollity devize. 

Her selfe to cherish, and her guest to cheare. 

The knight was courteous, and did not forbeare 
Her honest merth and pleasaunce to partake; 

Book II — Canto VI 233 

But when he saw her toy, and gibe, and geare. 

And passe the bonds of modest merimake, 

Her dalliaunce he despis'd, and follies did forstike. 

XXII. Vet she still followed her former style. 

And said and did all that mote him delight, 

Till they arrived in that pleasaunt He, 

WTiere sleeping late she Icfte her other knight. 

But whenas Guyon of that land hatl sijjht, 

He wist him selfe amisse, and angry said; 

“ Ah, Dame! perdy ye have not docn me right, 

Thus to mislead mee, whfit s I you obaid: 

Me litle needed from my right way to have straiil.*’ 

xxill. Faire Sir," (quoth she) ** l>o not displrased at all. 
Who fares on sea may not cotnmaund Ins wav, 

Nc wind and weather at his plexsiire rail: 

The sea is wide, and easy for to strav ; 

The uind unstable, and doth never slay. 

But here a while ye may in safety rest, 

Till season serve new passage to ass.iy : 

Better safe [)ort then i)e in seas dislrest." 

Therewith she laught, and did her earnest end in jest. 

XXIV. But he, halfe disrontml, mote nathrlesse 

Himselfe ap[>easc, Jind iss<*wd forth on sljorc; 

The joves whereof aial hajipy fruit fnlnesse. 

Such as he saw she gan him lay Ik fore. 

And all, though pkasaiint, yet •'la* tiukIc* much more: 
The fields did laugh, the flown s flid fn shly spring, 
l lic trees did bu<l, and earlv blossomes In^rc; 

And all the quire of birds did swtellv sing, 

And told that gardins pleasures in Ua ir caroling. 

XXV. And she, more sweete then any bird cm Ixnigh, 

Would oftentimes emongst ibem l)c are a part. 

And strive to piissc* (as she could wc 11 e nough) 

Their native musirke by her skilful art: 

So did she all that might his constant hart 
Withdraw from thought of warlike enterprise. 

And drowne in dissolute df?lights apart, 

Where noise of armes, or vcw of mart iall gti 12 c, 
Might not revive desire of knightly exercize. 

2 34 Faerie Queene 

XXVI. But he was wise, and wary of her will. 

And ever held his hand upon his hart; 

Yet would not seeme so rude, and the wed ill. 

As to despise so curteous seeming part 
That gentle Lady did to him impart : 

But, fairly tempring, fond desire subdewd. 

And ever her desired to depart. 

She list not heare, but her disports poursewd, 

And ever bad him stay till time the tide renewd. 

XXVII. And now by this Cymochles howre was spent. 

That he awoke out df his ydlc dreme; 

And, shaking off his drowsy dreriment, 

Gan him avize, howe ill did him beseme 
In slouthfull sleepe his molten hart to steme. 

And quench the brond of his conceived yre : 

Tho up he started, stird with shame extreme, 

Ne staied for his Damsell to inquire, 

But marched to the Strond there passage to require. 

xxviii. And in the way he with Sir Guyon mett, 

Accompan yde with Phaedria the faire : 

Eftsoones he gan to rage, and inly frett. 

Crying; ‘‘ Let be that Lady debonaire, 

'fhou recreaunt knight, and soone thyselfe prepaire 
To batteile, if thou meane her love to gayn. 

Loe, loe ! already how the fowles in aire 

Doe flocke, awaiting shortly to obtayn 

Thy carcas for their pray, the guerdon of thy payn." 

XXIX. And therewithal! he fiersly at him flew. 

And with importune outrage him assayld; 

Who, soone prepard to field, his sword forth drew. 
And him with equall valew countervayld : 

Their mightie strokes their haberjeons dismayld, 

And naked made each others manly spalles ; 

The mortall steele despiteously entayld 
Decpe in their flesh, quite through the yron walles. 
That a large purple streame adowne their giambeux 

XXX. Cymochles, that had never mett before 
So puissant foe, with envious despight 
His prowd presumed force increased more. 


Book II— Canto VI 

Disdeigning to bee held so long in fight. 

Sir Guyon, grudging not so much his might 
As those unknightly raylinges which he sj>t>ke, 

With wrathfuH fire his i oragc kindled bright, 

^fhereof devising shortly to Ik* wroke, 

And doubling all his powers redoubled every stroke. 

XXXI. Both of them high attonce their handes enhaunst, 
And both attonce their huge hlowes il(»wn did sway. 
Cymochles sword on Guyons shieki vglaunsi, 

And thereof nigh one quarter sheartl away; 

But Guyons angry blatle^o tiers did play 
On th’ others helmctt, which as I'llan shone, 

That quite it ( love his |)luined crest in lwa>, 

And band all his head unto the Inine; 

Wherewilli astonisht, still he st(n>d as sencelessc stone. 

xxxil. Still as he stood, fayre l*h;rdria, that iKheki 

That deadly daungcr, soone alweenc lh<‘m ran; 

And at their feet her sclfe most hurnblv fekl, 

Crying with pitteous voy«e, and count’nance wan, 

“ Ah, well away! most noble l^rds, how ran 
Your cruell eyes endure so pitteous sight, 

To shed your liv<‘s on ground? Wo worth the man, 

That first did teach the rursed steele to bight 

In his owne flesh, and make wav t«> the living sprightl 

xxxill. “ If ever love of Lady did empiercc 

V'our yron brestes, ar pittie conkl find jilarc, 

Withhold your bloody han*les from battaill fierce; 

And, sith for me ye fight, to me this grace 
Both yield, to stay your dearlly str\fr a space. 

Tlicy stayd a while, and forth she gan proceede: 

“ Most wretched woman and of wi< ked race, 

That am the aiithour of this hainous deed, 

And cause of death l>etweciic two doughlic knights do 
breed ! 

XXXIV. “ But, if for me yc fight, or me will serve, 

Not this rude kynd of hattaiil, nor these armes 
Are meet, the which doc men in bale to sterve, 

And doolefull sorrow heape with deadly harmes: 

Such crucll game my scarmoges chsarmes. 

Another warre, and other weapons, I 


The Faerie Quecne 

Doe love, where love does give his sweet Alarmes 
Without bloodshed, and where the enimy 
Does yield unto his foe a pleasaunt victory. 

XXXV. “ Debatefull strife, and cruell enmity. 

The famous name of knighthood fowly shend ; 

But lovely peace, and gentle amity, 

And in Amours the passing howres to spend. 

The mightie martiall handes doe most commend : 

Of love they ever greater glory bore 
Then of their armes^ Mars is Cupidoes frend. 

And is for Venus loves renowmed more 

Then all his wars and spoiles, the which he did of yore." 

xxxvi. Therewith she sweetly smyld. They, though full bent 
To prove extremities of bloody fight. 

Yet at her speach their rages gan relent. 

And calme the sea of their tempestuous spight. 

Such powre have pleasing wordes : such is the might 
Of courteous clemency in gentle hart. 

Now after all was ceast, the Faery knight 
Besought that Damzell suffer him depart, 

And yield him ready passage to that other part. 

xxxvii. She no lesse glad then he desirous was 
Of his departure thence; for of her joy 
And vainc delight she saw he light did pas, 

A foe of folly and immodest toy. 

Still solcmne sad, or still disdainfull coy ; 

Delighting all in armes aiul cruell warre. 

That her sweet peace and pleasures did annoy. 
Troubled with terrour and unquiet jarre. 

That she well pleased was thence to amove him farrf 

xxxviii. Tho him she brought abord, and her swift bote 
Forthwith directed to that further strand ; 

The which on the dull waves did lightly flote. 

And soone arrived on the shallow sand. 

Where gladsome Guyon salied forth to land, 

And to that Damsell thankes gave for reward. 

Upon that shore he spyed Atin stand, 

There by his maister left, when late he far’d 
In Phaedrias flitt barck over that perlous shard. 


Book II — Canto VI 

XXXIX. Well could he him rememl^r, silh of late 

He with Pvrochlcs sharp delKitement made: 

Streight gan he him rev\le, and hitter rate. 

As Shepheardes curre, that in d.uke eveninges shade 
Hath traded forth sc'ime salvage Uwstes tratle: 

“ Vile Miscreaunt,” (said he) “ whither dost thou flve 
The shame and dea.h, whieh will lln*e soone invatle? 
What coward hand shall doe thee next to dve. 

That art thus fowly fledd fri>m famous enimv? ” 

XL. With that he stifly shooke his steelhead dart: 

But sober Chiyon, hearing him so ravle, 

Though somewhat moved in his might le hart, 

Vet with strong reason maistred passion fraile, 

And passed fayrelv forth, lie. turning taile. 

Bark to the strond retyrd. and there still stavd, 
Awaiting passage whieh him late* dul faile ; 

The w'hiles (‘ymoehles with that wanton mayd 
The hasty heat of his avowd revenge delayd. 

XI T. Whylcst there the varlet stood, he saw' from farre 
An armed knight that towardes him fast; 

Ife ran on foot, as if in lu< warre 
His forlornc steed from him the vu lour wan: 

He .seemed hreathle.sse, hartle.s>e, faint, and wan; 

And all his armour sprmcklefl was with blood, 

And sovid with clurtie g<»re, that no man can 
Disecrne the hew theriMf. He never stood. 

But bent his hastie (ourse towarcles the ytllc Hood. 

XLii. The varlett .saw% when to the flcKid he rame, 

How without stop or stay he fiersly lept, 

And deepe him si lfe l>cdueked in the siimc, 

That in the lake his loftie rrest was stept, 

Xe of his safetie seemed care he kept : 

But with his raging armes he rudely flasht 
The waves alxmt, and all his .armour sw* pt. 

That all the l)lor»d and filth away was washt ; 

Yet still he bet tlie water, and the billowe'i dasht. 

XLiii. At in drew nigh U) wcet what it mote bee, 

For much he wondred at that unrouth sight: 

Whom should he but his owne dcarc Iy>rd there see, 



The Faerie Queene 

His owne deare Lord Pyrochles in sad plight. 

Ready to drowne him selfe for fell despight: 

“ Harrow now out, and well away ! ” he cryde, 

“ What dismall day hath lent this cursed light, 

To see my Lord so deadly damnifyde? 

Pyrochles, O Pyrochles ! what is thee betyde ? ” 

XLiv. ‘‘ I biime, I bume, I bume 1 ” then lowd he cryde, 

“ O! how I burne with implacable fyre; 

Yet nought can quench mine inly flaming syde, 

Nor sea of licour cold^ nor lake of myre: 

Nothing but death can doe me to respy re.” 

“ Ah ! be it,” (said he) “ from Pyrochles farre 
After pursewing death once to requyre. 

Or think, that ought those puissant hands may marrc 
Death is for wretches borne under unhappy starre.” 

XLV. “ Perdye, then is it fitt for me,” (said he) 

“ That am, I weene, most wretched man alive; 
Burning in flames, yet no flames can I see, 

And dying dayly, dayly yet revive. 

O Atin ! helpe to me last death to give.” 

The varlet at his plaint was grieved so sore. 

That his deepe wounded hart in two did rive; 

And, his owne health remembring now no more. 

Did follow that cnsamplc which he blamed afore. 

XLVi. Into the lake he lept his Lord to ayd, 

(So Love the dread of daunger doth despise) 

And of him catching hold him strongly stayd 
From drowning. But more happy he then wise. 

Of that seas nature did him not avise: 

The waves thereof so slow and sluggish were, 

Engrost with mud which did them fowle agrisc, 

That every weighty thing they did upbeare, 

Ne ought mote ever sinck downe to the bottom there. 

XLVir. Whiles thus they strugled in that ydle wave. 

And strove in vaine, the one him selfe to drowne, 

The other both from drowning for to save, 

Lo ! to that shore one in an auncient gowne, 

Whose hoary locks great gravitie did crowne, 

Holding in hand a goodly arming sword. 

Book II — Canto VI 239 

By fortune came, Icdd with the troiiMoiis sownc: 

Where drenched deepe he foNvnti m that dull ford 
The carefull servaunt stryving with his raping f.ord. 

XLViii. Him Atin spying knew right well of \i*re, 

And lowdly cald ; Heipc, hclpe! () Archiinagc! 

To save my Ia)rd in wretched plight forlorc; 

Helpe with thy hand, or with thv counscll sage: 

Weake handes, but counscU is most strong in age/* 
Him when the old man sau, he w«»ndred sore 
To see Pyrorhlos there so rudih rage; 

Vet silhcns h( Ijie, he he needed more 
Then pitty, he in hast approched to the shore, 

XLIX. And cald: “ Pvrorhles! what is this I se#*? 

Wliat hellish fury hath at earst thee hent ? 

Furious ever I thee knew to l>ce, 

Vet nc\er in this straunge ast<mi''lum nt/* 

“These dames, these flames “ (he tr\de) “ df)C me 

“ \\ ha flames,” (fpioth he), " hen I thee jiresent sec 
In daungcr rather to lie drent tlien brent? ” 

“ Harrow! the flames wIih Ii me consume,” (said hre) 

“ Nc can be qiicncht, w ithin my se< ret l>owelles l>cc. 

L. ” That cursed man, tb;it cruel feend (tf hell. 

Furor, oh! Furor hath me thus hedight: 

His deadly wrumdes within my li\er swell, 

And his whott fyre burnes in mine cntralles bright, 
Kindled through his mfernall brond of spight, 

Sith late with him I batteill vainc would boste; 

That now, I weene, joves dreaded thunder light 
Docs scorch not halfe so sure, nor damned ghost© 

In flaming Phlegcton docs not s^i felly roste.’ 

LI. Which when as Arrhimago heard, his griefc ^ 

He knew right well, and him altoncc disarm'd; 

Then scarcht his secret wounfh s, and made a priefe 
Of every place that was with bruzing li;irmd, 

Or with the hidden fire too inly warrnd. 

Which docn, he balmes and herl^es thereto applvdc, 
And evermore with mightic spcls them rharmd ; 

That in short space he has them qualif) de, 

And him restor'd to hclth that would have algates dyde. 


The Faerie Queene 


Guyon findes Mamon in a delve 
Sunning his threasure horc; 

Is by him tempted, and led downe 
To see his secrete store. 

I. As Pilot well expert in perilous wave, 

That to a steel fast stajre his course hath bent. 

When foggy mistes or cloudy tempests have 
The faitliful light of that faire lampe yblent, 

And cover’d heaven with hideous dreriment. 

Upon his card and compas firmes his eye. 

The maysters of his long experiment, 

And to them does the steddy helme apply. 

Bidding his winged vessell fairely forward fly: 

II. So Guyon having lost his trustie guyde, 

Uate left beyond that Ydle lake, proceedcs 
Yet on his way, of none accompanyde; 

And evermore himselfe with comfort feedes 
Of his own vertues and praise- worthie deedes. 

So, long he yode, yet no adventure found. 

Which fame of her shrill trompet worthy reedes; 

For still he traveild through wide wastfull ground. 
That nought but desert wildernesse shewed all around. 

III. At last he came unto a gloomy glade, 

Cover’d with boughes and shrubs from heavens light. 
Whereas he sitting found in secret shade 
An uncouth, salvage, and uncivile wight. 

Of griesly hew and fowle ill favour’d sight; 

His face with smoke was tand, and eies were bleard. 
His head and beard with sout were ill bedight. 

His cole-blacke hands did seeme to have ben seard 
In smythes fire-spitting forge, and nayles like clawes 

IV. His yron cote, all overgrowne with rust. 

Was underneath enveloped with gold ; 

Whose glistring glosse, darkned with filthy dust. 


Book II— Canto VII 

Well yet appeared to have beenc of old 
A worke of rich cntavle and curious mould, 

Woven with antickcs and wyld yiniigerj' ; 

And in his lap a masse of coyne he told, 

And turned upside downe, to feede his lye 
And covetous desire with his huge UuraMiry. 

V. And round about liim lay on cverN’ side 
Great heaj>es of golvl that never could be sjH‘nt ; 

Of which some were rude owre, not purihdc 
Of Mulcibcrs devouring eh inenl ; 

Some others were new drAen, and distt^nt 
Into great ingowes and to wedges square ; 

Some in round plates witlionten numnneut; 

But most were starupt, ami in tlu ir ruelal bare 
lltc antique sha]>csuf kinges ancl kesars sir.iungeand raie. 

VI. Soonc as l\c Guyt»n .s.iw, in great affilghl 
And haste he rose for to remove asi le 

Those pretious hils from straungers » nvious sight, 

And downe them poure<I through an hole full wide 
Into the hollow earth, them llu le to hide. 

But Guyon, lightly to him leaping, staval 
His hand that trtMnblcfl as one ternfvrlc; 

Anti though liimselfe were at the sight tlismayd, 

Yet him i>erforce restray ml, ami to him doubtfull sayd: 

VII. What art thou, man, (if man at all thou art) 

That here in desert hast thine habitaunce, 

And those rich hils of welth dtiest hi<le apart 
From the worldes eye, and from her right usaunce? 
lliereat, with staring eyes fixcii askaunce, 

In great disdaine he answerd: “ Hardy Fife, 

That darest view my direfull countcnaunce, 

I read thee rash and hccdelesse of thy scHe, 

To troul 3 lc my still scale, and hea|>es of pretious pc.ic. 

VIII. “ God of the world and worldlings 1 me rail, 

Great Mammon, greatest god l)elow the skyc, 

That of my plenty pourc out unto all, 

And unto none my graces do cnvyc; 

Riches, renowme, and principality, 

Honour, estate, and all this worldes good. 


The Faerie Queene 

For which men swinck and sweat incessantly, 

Fro me do flow into an ample flood, 

And in the hollow earth have their eternal brood. 

IX. “ Wherefore, if me thou deigne to serve and sew, 

At thy commaund lo! all these mountaines bee: 

Or if to thy great mind, or greedy vew, • 

All these may not sufhse, there shall to thee 
Ten times so much be nombred francke and free/’ 

‘‘ Mammon,” (said he) “ thy godheads vaunt is vaine. 
And idle offers of thy golden fee; 

To them that covet shch eye-glutting gaine 
Proffer thy giftes, and fitter servaunts entertaine. 

X. “ Me ill besits, that in der-doing armes 
And honours suit my vowed daies do spend, 

Unto thy bounteous baytes and pleasing charmes. 
With which weake men thou witchest, to attend; 
Regard of worldly mucke doth fowly blend. 

And low abase the high heroicke spright. 

That joyes for crownes and kingdomes to contend: 
Faire shields, gay steedes, bright armes be my delight; 
Those be the riches fit for an adventurous knight,” 

XI. “ Vaine glorious Fife,” (saide he) ‘‘ doest not thou weet, 
That money can thy wantes at will supply ? 

Shcilds, steeds, and armes, and all things for thee meet, 
It can purvay in twinckling of an eye; 

And crownes and kingdomes to thee multiply. 

Do not I kings create, and throw the crowne 
Sometimes to him that low in dust doth ly. 

And him that raignd into his rowme thrust downe. 
And whom I lust do hcape with glory and renowne? ” 

XII. “ All otherwise ” (saide he) “ I riches read. 

And deeme them roote of all disquietnesse; 

First got with guile, and then preserv’d with dread. 
And after spent with pride and lavishnesse, 
l.eaving behind them griefe and heavinesse: 

Infinite mischiefes of them doe arize. 

Strife and debate, bloodshed and bittemesse. 
Outrageous wrong, and hellish covetize, 

That noble heart as great dishonour doth despize. 


Book II— Canto VII 

XIII. " Nc thine be kingdomcs, ne the scepters thine; 

But realmes and rulers thou dt>esi In^ih confound, 

And loyall truth to treason doest incline: 

Witnesse the guilt lisse blooil pourd oft on ground. 

The crowned often ^laine, the slayer cround; 

The sacred Diadcine in peeces rent. 

And purple robe goretl with many a wound, 

Castles surprizd, great cities s.ickt and brent: 

So mak’st thou kings, and gaynest wrongfull government. 

XIV. ‘‘ Long were to toll the tnuiblous stormes that tossc 
The private slate, am! make the life unsweet: 

Who sw’clling sayles m Caspian sea dt>th crosse, 

And in frayle wood on Adrian gulf d*»th fleet, 

Doth not, I weene, so many evils meet.” 

Then Mammon wexing wrtUh; ” And why then,” sayd, 

“ Are morlall men so fond and umliM rcet 
So evill thing to seeke unto their aytl, 

And having not complaine, and having it upbrayd? ** 

XV. “ Indeede,’* (quoth he) “ through fowle inlcmperaunre, 
Frayle men arc oft caplivM to covelise; 

But would they thinke with how small allowannce 
Untroubled Nature doth her s<*lfe suHisc, 

Such superfluities they would <, 

Which with sad cares empeach our native joyes. 

At the well-head the purest slrearncs arise; 

But mucky filth his braumhing armes annf>yc5, 

And with uncomely w cedes the gentle wave acxloyes. 

XVI. “ The antique world, in hi.s first flouring youth, 

Fownd no defect in his Orators grace; 

But with glad thankes, and unrejiroved truth, 

The guifts of soverainc bounty did embrace: 

Like Angels life was then mens happy cace; 

But later ages pride, like corn-fed steed, 

Abusd her plenty and fat suolnc encreacc 

To all licentious lust, and gan exceed 

The measure of her mcanc and naturall first need. 

xvn. “ Then gan a cursed hand the quiet womlK; 

Of his great Grandmother with slcclc to wound. 

And the hid treasures in her sacred tombe 






The Faerie Queene 

With Sacriledge to dig. Therein he fownd 
Fountaines of gold and silver to abownd. 

Of which the matter of his huge desire 

And pompous pride eftsoones he did compownd ; 

Then avarice gan through his veines inspire 
His greedy flames, and kindled life-devouring fire.” 

“ Sonne,” (said he then) “ lett be thy bitter scorne. 

And leave the rudenesse of that antique age 
To them that liv’d therein in state forlorne : 

Thou, that doest live in later times, must wage 
Thy workes for wealth, and life for gold engage. 

If then thee list my offred grace to use, 

Take what thou please of all this surplusage; 

If thee list not, leave have thou to refuse: 

But thing refused doe not afterward accuse.” 

** Me list not ” (said the Elfin knight) “ receave 
Thing offred, till I know it well be gott ; 

Ne wote I but thou didst these goods bereave 
From rightfull owner by unrighteous lott, 

Or that bloodguiltinesse or guile them blott.” 

” Perdy,” (quoth he) ” yet never eie did vcw, 

Ne tong did tell, ne hand these handled not; 

But safe I have them kept in secret mew 

From hevens sight, and powre of al which them poursew.” 

“ What secret place ” (quoth he) “ can safely hold 
So huge a masse, and hide from heavens eie? 

Or where hast thou thy wonne, that so much gold 
Thou canst preserve from wrong and robbery ? ” 

“ Come thou,” (quoth he) ” and see.” So by and by 
Through that thick covert he him led, and fownd 
A darkesome way, which no man could descry. 

That deep descended through the hollow grownd. 

And was with dread and horror compassed arownd. 

At length they came into a larger space, 

That stretcht itselfe into an ample playne ; 

Through which a beaten broad high way did trace. 

That streight did lead to Plutoes griesly rayne. 

By that wayes side there sate internail Payne, 

And fast beside him sat tumultuous Strife : 


Book lI_Canto VII 

The one in hand an yron whip did strayne, 

Tlie other brandished a bltHxiv knife ; 

And both did gnash tlicir tecdi. and both did tiireten life. 

XXII. thother side in nne consort there sate 
Cmell Revenge, and r ncorous l)esf>ight, 

Disloyall Treason, an<l hart-burning Hate; 

But gnawing Gealousy, out of their sight 
Sitting alone, his hitter lips di<i bight: 

And trembling Keare still to and fro did flv, 

And found no place whor safe he shroud him might: 
Lamenting Sorrow did in dflrknes lyc. 

And shame his ugly face did 1 ide from living eye. 

XXIII. And over them sad horror with grim hew 
Did alwaies sore, Ix'ating his yron wings ; 

And after him Owks and Night-ravens Hew, 

The hatcfiill m<*ssengers of hc‘avy things, 

Of death and dolor telling sad tidings ; 

Whiles sad Celeno, sitting on a chfte, 

A song of hale and bitter sorrow j mgs, 

'Fhat hart of flint iisonder coukl ha\(* rifle; 

Which having ended after him she flytth swiftr. 

XXIV. All these Ix fore the gates of Pluto lay, 

By whom they passing spake unto them nought; 

But th’ Elfin knight with wonder all the way 
Di I feed his eyes, and fild his inner tlu)ught. 

At last him to litle d<»re he lirought, 

That to the gate of Hell, which ga|x*d w'irle, 

\V^as next arljoyning, ne them parted ought: 

Be twixt them both was hut a litle stride, 

That did the house of Kichesse from helhmouth divide. 

XXV. Before the dorc sat selfc-ronsuming (arc, 

Day and night keeping wary waUli ancl ward, 

For fearc least Force or Fraud should unaware 
Breakc in, and spoih' the treasure there in gard: 

Nc would he suffer Sleejjo once thither-ward 
Approch, albe his dr(*wsy den were next; 

For next to death is Sleepc to lx; compard ; 

Therefore his house is unto his annext: 

Here Sleep, ther Richesse,and Hcl-gate them both betwext. 

246 The Faerie Queene 

XXVI. So soon as Mammon there arrivd, the dore 
To him did open and aflFoorded way: 

Him followed eke Sir Guyon evermore, 

Ne darkenesse him, ne daunger might dismay. 

Soone as he entred was, the dorc straight way 
Did shutt, and from behind it forth there lept 
An ugly feend, more fowle then dismal! day. 

The which with monstrous stalke behind him stept. 
And ever as he went dew watch upon him kept. 

XXVII. Well hoped hee, ere long that hardy guest. 

If ever covetous har%d, or lustfull eye, 

Or lips he layd on thing that likte him best, 

Or ever sleepe his eie-strings did untye, 

Should be his pray. And therefore still on hye 
He over him did hold his cruell clawes, 

Threatning with greedy gripe to doe him dye, 

And rend in pecces with his ravenous pawes. 

If ever he transgrest the fatall Stygian lawes. 

XXVIII. That houses forme within was rude and strong, 

Lyke an huge cave hewne out of rocky clifte, 

From whose rough vaut the ragged breaches hong 
Embost with massy gold of glorious guiftc, 

And with rich metall loaded every rifte. 

That heavy ruine they did seeme to threatt; 

And over them Arachne did lifte 
Her cunning web, and spred her subtile nett, 
Enwrapped in fowle smoke and clouds more black 
than Jett. 

XXIX. Both roofe, and floore, and walls, were all of gold, 

But overgrowne with dust and old decay, 

And hid in darkcncs, that none could behold 
The hew thereof; for vew of cherefull day 
Did never in that house it selfe display. 

But a faint shadow of uncertein light: 

Such as a lamp, whose life does fade away, 

Or as the Moone, cloathed with dowdy night. 

Does show to him that walkes in feare and sad affright. 

XXX- In all that rowme was nothing to be seene 

But huge great yron chests, and coffers strong. 

All bard with double bends, that none could weenc 

Book II — Canto VII 247 

Them to efforce by violence or wrong: 

On every side they placed were along ; 

But all the grownd with souls was scattered, 

And dead mens bones, which round about were Hong; 
Whose lives, it seemeil, whilome there were shed, 

And their vile carc.ises now hft unburietl. 

XXXI. They forward p.i<so; ne (hiytm yet sjwke word, 

Till that they came unto an yron tlor«‘. 

Which to them op'Uied of his anord, 

And shew’d of ridu sse suth ext t ending store, 

As cie of man did never ^ee IndfUe. 

Ne ever couM within one place lx* h)wnd. 

Though all the wealth which is. or was of vore. 

Could gatht red lx* through all the wt»rlii .uownd, 

And that alujve were added to tliat under grownd. 

XXXll. The charge thereof unto a covetous Spnght 
Commaimded w'its, who thereby did atti'iid, 

And wiirily awaited day and night, 

From other covt-tous feends it lo def« lul, 

W ho it to rob and ransaicke did ini* nd 
Tlicn Mammon, turning to that warriour, said; 

“ l>)e! here the worldcs hlis; ku* ! here ihr end, 

To whidi al men dt»e avne-, ruh to l)c made- 
Such grate n<*w to be ba|»py is lx*fore tine laid/* 

XXXIII. “ ( ertes,” (‘^.'ivd Ik ) “ 1 n ill thine oflrid grace, 

Ne to be made s<» happv d<»e intt nd : 

Another bhs bt hire mine eyes I |)l.Ke. 

Antither happuies, another entl. 

To the m that list these h.'Lse n garbles I I nd ; 

But I in armes, anti in att hk-vt nu nts brave, 

L)o rather c'Iioom* inv flitting hour* s to s|K'n<I, 

And t«i lie I/ird of lht*se that rit ht s have, 

Then them to have my selh-, and tie ir servile st lave.” 

XXXIV. Thereat the femtl his gnashing teeth tlid grate, 
And griev’d so long to Ucke his grtedie pray; 
For well he weened that so glorious bayte 
Would tempt his guest to take thereof assay; 
Had ho so doen, he had him snattht away, 
More light then Culver in the Faiilcons 


The Faerie Queene 

Etemall God thee save from such decay ! 

But, whenas Mammon saw his purpose mist. 

Him to entrap unwares another way he wist. 

XXXV. Thence forward he him ledd, and shortly brought 
Unto another rowme, whose dore forthright 
To him did open, as it had been taught. 

Therein an hundred raunges weren pight. 

And hundred foumaces all burning bright: 

By every foumace many feendes did byde. 

Deformed creatures, horrible in sight; 

And every feend his t)usie paines applyde 
To melt the golden metall, ready to be tryde. 

XXXVI. One with great bellowes gathered filling ayre, 

And with forst wind the fewell did inflame; 

Another did the dying bronds repayre 
With yron tongs, and sprinckled ofte the same 
With liquid waves, fiers Vulcans rage to tame. 

Who, maystring them, renewd his former heat: 

Some scumd the drossc that from the metall came; 
Some stird the molten owre with ladles great; 

And every one did swincke, and every one did sweat. 

XXXVII, But, when an earthly wight they present saw 
Glistring in armes and battailous aray. 

From their whot work they did themselves withdraw 
To wonder at the sight; for till that day 
They never creature saw that cam that way : 

Their staring eyes sparckling with fervent fyre 
And ugly shapes did nigh the man dismay, 

That, were it not for shame, he would re tyre; 

Till that him thus bespake their soveraine Lord and 

xxxviii. “ Behold, thou Faeries sonne, with mortall eye. 

That living eye before did never see. 

The thing, that thou didst crave so earnestly. 

To weet whence all the wealth late shewd by mee 
Proceeded, lo ! now is reveald to thee. 

Here is the fountaine of the worldes good: 

Now, therefore, if thou wilt enriched bee, 

Avise thee well, and chaunge thy wilfull mood. 

Least thou perhaps hereafter wish, and be withstood.*’ 

Book II— Canto VII 241 

XXXIX. “ Suffisc it then, thou Money God,’* (quoth hee) 

“ That all thine ydle offers I refuse. 

All that I need 1 have: what needcth mec 
To covet more then I have cause to use ^ 

With such vaiiic shcwes thy worldlinges vylc abuse; 
But give me leave to follow mine emprise.” 

Mammon was much displeasd, yet no’te he chuse 
But bcare the rigour of his Iwld mesprise ; 

And thence him forward Icdd him furilier to entise. 

XL. He brought him, througl^ a darksom narrow strayt, 
To a broad gate all built of lK‘uten gold : 

The gate was o|X‘n; but therein did wayt 
A stiirdic villein, stryding .sliffe and Udd, 

As if the highest God defy he would: 

In his right hand an yron club he held. 

But he hirnselfc w;vs all of golden mo\ild, 

Yet had both life and sence, and well could weld 
That cursed weajxm, when hi'y < nu ll foes he qneld. 

XL7. Disdayne he called wiis, and did disdavne 
To be so raid, and w'ho .so did him call: 

Sterne wjis his lookc. anti full of .sUunacke vayne; 

His fx-jrtaiince terrible, and sUiturc tall, 

Far passing th’ bight of men terre.«itri.ill, 
bike an huge Gyant td the 'Fitins race; 

That made him scorne all creatures great and small. 
And with his pride all othtrs powrc deface: 

More flit emongst black fientlt s tlien men to have his 

XLII. Soone as thtjse ghtterand arnies he did es[>yc, 

That with their brightiusse rn;ulc that darknes light. 
His harmefull club he gan to hurtk- hyc, 

Anti threaten batteill to the Fiwry knight; 

UhiO likewise gan himselfe ttj batUiil tlight, 

Till Mammon did his ha*ity hantl withholc], 

And counseJd him abstainc from jH-rilous fight; 

For nothing might abash the villein lx>ld, 

Ne mortall steele cmpercc his mi.scrcated mould. 

XLiii. So having him with reason pacifyde, 

And that fiers Carle commaunding to forbeare, 


The Faerie Queene 

He brought him in. The rowme was large and wyde. 
As it some Gy eld or solemne Temple weare. 

Many great golden pillours did upbeare 
The massy roofe, and riches huge sustayne; 

And every pillour decked was full deare 
With crownes, and Diademes, and titles vaine, 

Which mortall Princes wore whiles they on earth did 

XLiv. A route of people there assembled were, 

Of every sort and n2y;ion under skye, 

Which with great uprore preaced to draw nere 
To th’ upper part, where was advaunced hye 
A stately siege of soveraine majestye; 

And thereon satt a woman, gorgeous gay 
And richly cladd in robes of royaltye. 

That never earthly Prince in such array 

His glory did enhaunce, and pompous pryde display. 

XLV. Her face right wondrous faire did seeme to bee. 

That her broad beauties beam great brightnes threw 
Through the dim shade, that all men might it sec: 

Yet was not that same her owne native hew. 

But wrought by art and counterfetted shew, 

Thereby more lovers unto her to call : 

Nath^esse most hevenly faire in deed and vew 
She by creation was, till she did fall; 

Thenceforth she sought for helps to cloke her crime 

XL VI. There, as in glistring glory she did sitt. 

She held a great gold chaine ylincked well. 

Whose upp>er end to highest heven was knitt, 

And lower part did reach to lowest Hell ; 

And all that preace did rownd about her swell 
To catchen hold of that long chaine, thereby 
To climbe aloft, and others to excell : 

That was Ambition, rash desire to sty, 

And every linck thereof a step of dignity. 

XLVii. Some thought to raise themselves to high degree 
By riches and unrighteous reward ; 

Some by close shouldring ; some by flatteree ; 

Book II — Canto \^II 251 

Others through friendes; others for Kise reganJ, 

And all by wrong wiiie*? for themselves prt‘[>iird: 

Those that were up themselves kepi others low; 

Those that were low themed ves held cithers hard, 

Ne suflfred them to ryse or greater gmw ; 

But ever\' one did strive his fellow downe to thn>vv. 

XLViii. Which w'honas (iiiviin saw. he gan intpiire, 

What meant that [>rea(e about that l^idios throne. 
And what she v\;is that dui mj high aspvre? 

Him Mammon answered; “ Ihat goodlv one, 

Whom all that folke with stall <ontrntion 
Doe flock alnuit, my deare, iny tiaughu r is: 

Honour and digfiiti<* from her 
Deriverl are, and all this worldes bhs, 

For which ye men doe strive; few gett, but many mis. 

XLIX. ** And fayre Philotime she right Iv hight. 

The fairest wiLdil that wonneth under skie, 

But tliat this darksom neather world her light 
Doth dim with horror and deh rmitv; 

VVorthie of hcven and hye fela itte, 

From whence tlie gods h*ive her for envv thrust: 

But, sitli thou hast found favour in mine eve. 

Thy spouse I will her make, if that thou lust, 

That slie may thee advanie for works and m* rits just. " 

L, “ CrraiiKTcy, Mammon.” (said the gentle knight) 

“ For so great grace and offred high estate; 
lint I, that am frailc fl< ‘'h and earlblv wight, 
Unw'orthy matcli for such immortall mate 
My selfe well wole, and mine unequal) late: 

And were I not, vet is my troulh \ plight, 

And love avow cl tf> fit her I«idv late. 

That to remove the same I have no migdif : 

To f haungc lovec^iu < lesse isrepna !i tmvar hkeknight.’* 

LI. Mammon emmoved wiis with inward wrath; 

Yet, forcing it to fayne, him forth thenre Ir dfl, 
Through gritsly .shaflowes bv a l>calen path. 

Into a gardin goofJly garnished 

W’ith hearbs and fmits, whose k inf Is mfite not be redd: 
Not such as earth out of her fruitfull woomb 


The Faerie Queene 

Throwes forth to men, sweet and well savored, 

But direfull deadly black, both leafe and bloom, 

Fitt to adome the dead, and deck the drery toombe. 

Lii. There mournfull Cypresse grew in greatest store, 

And trees of bitter Gall, and Heben sad ; 

Dead sleeping Poppy, and black Hellebore; 

Cold Coloquintida, and Tetra mad ; 

Mortall Samnitis, and Cicuta bad. 

With which th* unjust Atheniens made to dy 
Wise Socrates; whq, thereof quaffing glad, 

Pourd out his life and last Philosophy 
To the fayre Critias, his dearest Belamy 1 

LII I. The Gardin of Proserpina this hight; 

And in the midst thereof a silver seat, 

With a thick Arber goodly over-dight. 

In which she often usd from open heat 
Her selfe to shroud, and pleasures to entreat: 

Next thereunto did grow a goodly tree, 

With braunches broad dispredd and body great, 
Clothed with leaves, that non the wood mote see, 

And loaden all with fruit as thick as it might bee. 

Liv. Their fruit were golden apples glistring bright. 

That goodly was their glory to behold ; 

On earth like never grew, ne living wight 
Like ever saw, but they from hence were sold ; 

For those which Hercules, with conquest bold 
Got from great Atlas daughters, hence began. 

And planted there did bring forth fruit of gold; 

And those with which th’ Eubocan young man wan 
Swift Atalanta, when through craft he her out ran. 

LV. Here also sprung that goodly golden fruit. 

With which Acontius got his lover trew. 

Whom he had long time sought with fruitlesse suit: 
Here eke that famous golden Apple grew 
The which emongst the gods false Ate threw; 

For which th’ Idaean Ladies disagreed, 

Till partiall Paris dempt it Venus dew. 

And had of her fayre Helen for his meed. 

That many noble Greekes and Trojans made to bleed 


Book II — Canto VII 

LVi. The warlike Elfe much wondred at this tree, 

So fay re and great that shadtnvcd all the ground, 

And his broad braunches, laden with rich fee, 

Did stretcht themselves without the utmost lx>un<l 
Of this great gardin, compost with a mound ; 

Which over-hanging, they themselves did steepe 
In a blackc flood, wliieh flow'd alxnit it round. 

That is the river of ('ocytus deejx*. 

In which full many soules do endlesse waylc and wee|>e. 

Lvii. Which to behold he clomb up to ll)e hancke. 

And looking downe saw many <lamned wighies 
In those sad waves, which direfull deadly stancke, 
Plonged continually of cniell Sprigliles, 

That with their piteous cryes, and yelling shrightes, 
They made the further shore resoimden wide. 

Emongst the rest of those same ruefull sightes, 

One cursed creature he by chaunre espide, 

That drenched lay full dce|x- under the (iarden .side. 

LVlli. Deepc was he drenched to the upmost 
Vet gaped still as coveting to drinke 
Of the cold liquor which he waded in : 

And stretching forth his hand did often thinke 
To reach the fruit which grew iqion the hrinckc; 

But both the fruit from hand, and flood from mouth, 
Did fly abackc, and made him vainely swincke ; 

The whiles he sterv'd with hunger, and with drouth, 
He daily dyde, yet never throughly dyen couth. 

Lix. The knight, him seeing lalwnir so in vainc, 

Askt who he was, and what he ment thcreb\ ? 

Who, groning deepe, thus answerd him againc; 

“ Most cursed of all creatures under skyc, 

Lo! Tantalus, I here tormented lyc: 

Of whom high Jove wont whylomc feasted bee; 

Lo! here I now for want of food doe dye: 

But, if that thou l>c such as 1 thee see, 

Of grace I pray thee, give to cat and drinke to mccl " 

LX. “ Nay, nay, thou greedy Tanulus/' (quoth he) 

“ Abide the fortune of thy present fate; 

And unto all that live in high degree. 

254 The Faerie Queene 

Ensample be of mind intemperate. 

To teach them how to use their present state.” 
Then gan the cursed wretch alowd to cry. 

Accusing highest Jove and gods ingrate; 

And eke blaspheming heaven bitterly. 

As author of un justice, there to let him dye. 

LXi. ITe lookt a litle further, and espyde 

Another wretch, whose carcas deepe was drent 
Within the river, which the same did hyde; 

But both his handes, ipost filthy feculent. 

Above the water were on high extent. 

And faynd to wash themselves incessantly. 

Yet nothing cleaner were for such intent. 

But rather fowler seemed to the eye; 

So lost his labour vaine and ydle industry. 

LXii. The knight him calling asked who he was? 

Who, lifting up his head, him answered thus; 

” I Pilate am, the falsest Judge, alasl 
And most unjust; that, by unrighteous 
And wicked doome, to Jewes despiteous 
Delivered up the Lord of life to dye, 

And did acquite a murdrer felonous; 

The whiles my handes I washt in purity. 

The whiles my soule was soyld with fowle iniquity.” 

LXlii. Infinite moe tormented in like paine 

He there beheld, too long here to be told : 

Ne Mammon would there let him long remayne. 

For terrour of the tortures manifold. 

In which the damned soules he did behold. 

But roughly him bespake; “ Thou fearefull foole, 
Why takest not of that same fruite of gold? 

Ne sittest downe on that same silver stoole, 

To rest thy weary person in the shadow coole? ” 

LXIY. All which he did to do him deadly fall 

In frayle intemperaunce through s infull bayt; 

To which if he inclyned had at all. 

That dreadfull feend, which did behinde him wayt. 
Would him have rent in thousand peeces stray t : 
But he was wary wise in all his way, 

Book II — Canto VII 255 

And well perceived his deceiptfull sleight, 

Ne suflred lust his safely to l>etray. 

So goodly did beguile the (luyler of his pray. 

LXV. And now he has so long remained thearc. 

That vitall powres gan wexe Ixuh weake and wan 
For want of food and sleejH', which t\%o upbearc, 
bike mighlie pillours, this frayle life of, 

That none without the s*unc enduren can: 

For now three dayes of men were full out-wTought, 
Since he this hardy ent^ rpri/e Iw'gan: 

Forthy great Mamm<»n fayrely he liosought 

Into the world to giiydc him backe, os he him brought. 

LXVI. The (lod, though loth, yet wiis eonslraynd l’ ob.iy; 
For longer time then that no living wight 
Below the earth might sulTrcd be to stav: 

So backe againe him brought to living light. 

But all so soone iis his enfeeble*) spright 
Gan sucke this vitall ayre into his brest, 

As overcome with too exceeding might, 

Tlie life did flit away out of her nest, 

And all his scnccs were with deadly fit upprest^ 


The Faerie Queene 


Sir Guyon, layd in swowne, is by 
Aerates sonnes despoyld; 

Whom Arthure soone bath reskewed, 

And Paynim brethren foyld. 

I. And is there care in heaven? And is there love 
In heavenly spirits to these creatures bace, 

That may compassion of their evilles move ? 

There is : else much more wretched were the cace 
Of men then beasts. ButO! th’ exceeding grace 
Of highest God that loves his creatures so, 

And all his workes with mercy doth embrace. 

That blessed Angels he sends to and fro, 

To serve to wicked man, to serve his wicked foe. 

II. How oft do they their silver bowers leave, 

To come to succour us that succour want ! 

How oft do they with golden pineons cleave 
The flitting skyes, like flying Pursuivant, 

Against fowle feendes to ayd us militant ! 

They for us fight, they watch and dewly ward. 

And their bright Squadrons round about us plant; 
And all for love, and nothing for reward. 

O ! why should hevenly God to men have such regard 

III. During the while that Guyon did abide 

In Mamons house, the Palmer, whom whylcare 
That wanton Mayd of passage had denide. 

By further search had passage found elsewhere ; 

And, being on his way, approched neare 
Where Guyon lay in traunce; when suddeinly 
He heard a voyce that called lowd and cleare, 

“ Come hither I hither I O, come hastily 1 ** 

That all the fields resounded with the ruefull cry. 

IV. The Palmer lent his eare unto the noyce. 

To weet who called so importunely: 

Againe he heard a more efiorced voyce. 


Book II— Canto VIII 

That bad him come in haste. He by and by 
His feeble feet directed to the cry; 

Which to that shady delve him brought at last, 

Where Mammon carst dul sunne his lhre;isurv ; 

There the good Guyon he found slmnbring fast 
In senceles dreame ; which siglu at first him st)rc aghast, 

V. Beside his head there salt a f.iire young man, 

Of wondrous Ix^iuly and of fu-slusl veares, 

Whose tender bud to blossome new began, 

And fionsli fuire al>ove his equall |K‘arrs: 

His snowy front, curled with golden heares, 
adornd witli sunnv ravc\s, 

Divinely shone; and two sharpe wingrd shearrs, 
Decked w'ith diverse plumt‘s. like paintfil laves, 

Were fixed at his liackc to « ut his ayery waves. 

VI. Like as ('upido on Id.ran hill, 

W^hen having lairl his i rut 11 l>ow awav 
And mortiill arrow'es, wherewith he <loth fill 
The world with murdroiis spoiles and bloody pray, 
With his faire motlicr he him diglits to play, 

And witli his goodly sisters, Grates three: 

'fhe Goddesse, ])l«Msetl with his wanltm play, 

Suffers her selfe through sleepe In guild to r»'‘e, 

The whiles the other l^dit-s mind theyr mcry glee. 

VII. Wliom when the Palmer saw, ahasht he was 

Through fear and wonder tliat he nought c ould say, 
Till him the childe iK’spokc; “ Ix)ng laekt,! 

Hath bene thy faithfull aiilt* in hard assay, 

WTiilrs deadly fitt thy pupill doth dismav. 

Behold this heavy sight, thou reverend .Sire! 

But tlrcad of death anti dolor ejoe away; 

For life ere long shall to her home retire. 

And he that breath lessc seems shal ct>nigc both respire. 

viii. “ The charge, which Gwi doth unto me arrett. 

Of his deare safety, I to thee commend ; 

Yet will I n<»t forgoc, nc yet forgett 
The care thereof my selfe unto the end, 

But evermore him succour, and defend 
Against his foe and mine: watch thou, I pray, 


The Faerie Queene 

For cvill is at hand him to offend.’^ 

So having said, eftsoones he gan display 
His painted nimble wings, and vanisht quite away. 

IX. The Palmer seeing his lefte empty place. 

And his slow eies beguiled of their sight, 

Woxe sore affraid, and standing still a space 
Gaz’d after him, as fowle escapt by flight. 

At last, him turning to his charge behight. 

With trembling hand his troubled pulse gan try; 
Where finding life not yet dislodged quight. 

He much rejoyst, and c6urd it tenderly, 

As chicken newly hatcht, from dreaded destiny. 

X. At last he spide where towards him did pace 
Two Paynim knights al armd as bright as skie. 

And them beside an aged Sire did trace. 

And far before a light-foote Page did flie. 

That breathed strife and troublous enmitie. 

Those were the two sonnes of Aerates old. 

Who, meeting earst with Archimago slie 

Foreby that idle strond, of him were told 

That he which earst them combatted was Guyon bold* 

XI. Which to avenge on him they dearly vowd. 

Where ever that on ground they mote him find: 

False Archimage provokte their corage prowd. 

And stryful Atin in their stubborne mind 
Coles of contention and whot vengeaunce tind. 

Now bene they come whereas the Palmer sate. 
Keeping that slombred corse to him assind : 

Well knew they both his person, sith of late 
With him in bloody armes they rashly did debate. 

XII. Whom when Pyrochles saw, inflam’d with rage 
Tliat sire he fowl bespake : Thou dotard vile. 

That with thy brutenessc shendst thy comely age. 
Abandon soone, I read, the caytive spoile 
Of that same outcast carcas, that erewhile 
Made it selfe famous through false trechery, 

And crownd his coward crest with knightly stile; 

Loe 1 w’here he now inglorious doth lye. 

To proove he lived il that did thus fowly dye. 

Book Il—Canto VIII 259 

XIII. To whom the Piilmer fearlesse answered? 

** Certes, Sir knight, ye bene loo much to blame, 

Thus for to blott the honor of the dead, 

And with fowle cowanlize his carcas shame, 

Whose living handes immortalizd his name. 

Vile is the vengeaimce on the ashes cold, 

And envy base to b'trke at sleepiiig hune. 

Was never wight that treason of liiin toKI: 

Your self his prowesse proved, and found liim fiers and 

XIV. TTicn sayd Cymodiles: *‘J\ilrner, thou <!oesi dote, 

Ne canst of prowesse ne of knight hoot! dee me, 

Save as tliou seest or hearst, but well I woie, 
lliat of his puissance tryall rna<le exlneine: 

Yet gold al is not that doth g<»lden seeme ; 

Ne all good knit:hts that shake wi ll s|)eare and shield. 
The worth of all men by their end esti'cme, 

And then dew' praise or dew reproch them yield; 

Bad therefore I him deeme that thus lies ijeail on field. 

XV. ** Good or bad,** gan his brother Tiers reply, 

“ What doc I recke, sith that he dide entire? 

Or what doth his bad death now satisfy 
"rhe greedy hunger of revenging yre, 

Sith wrathfull hand wrought not her owne desire? 

Yet since no way is lefie to wn .ike mv spight, 

I will him reave of armes, the victors hire, 

And of that shield, more worthy of good knight; 

For why should a dead dogl>cde(kt in armour bright? ** 

XVI. “ Fayr .Sir,** said then the Palmer suppliaunt, 

“ For knighthoods love doe not so fowle a deed, 

Ne blame your honor with .so shamefuJI vaunt 
Of vile revenge. To sjxulc the de?wi of weed 
Is sacrilege, and doth all smnes exceed : 

But leave these relicks of his living might 
To deckc his hcrce, and trap his tnmb-blacke steed.** 

“ What hcrce or steed ** (said he) “ should he have <light. 
But be entombed in the raven or the kight? *' 

XVII. W^ith that, rude hand upon his sliield he laid, 

And th* other brother gan his hcime unlace, 

Both fiercely bent to have him disaraid; 

26 o 

The Faerie Queene 

Till that they spyde where towards them did pace 
An armed knight, of bold and bounteous grace, 
Whose squire bore after him an heben launce 
And covered shield. Well kend him so far space 
Th’ enchaunter by his armes and amenaunce. 

When under him he saw his Lybian steed to praunce; 

xviii. And to those brethren sayd; “ Rise, rise bylive. 

And unto batteil doe your selves addresse ; 

For yonder comes the prowest knight alive. 

Prince Arthur, flowre of grace and nobilesse. 

That hath to Paynim krfights wrought gret distressc. 
And thousand Sar’zins fowly donne to dye.” 

That word so deepe did in their harts impresse. 

That both eftsoones upstarted furiously, 

And gan themselves prepare to batteill greedily, 

XIX. But fiers Pyrochles, lacking his owne sword, 

The want thereof now greatly gan to plaine. 

And Archimage besought, him that afford 
Which he had brought for Braggadochio vaine. 

“ So would I,” (said th’ enchaunter) “ glad and faine 
Beteeme to you this sword, you to defend. 

Or ought that els your honour might maintaine ; 

But that this weapons powre I well have kend 
To be contrary to the worke which ye intend: 

XX. “ For that same knights owne sword that is, of yore 
Which Merlin made by his almightie art 

For that his noursling, when he knighthood swore. 
Therewith to doen his foes etemall smart. 

The metall first he mext with Medaewart, 

That no enchauntment from his dint might save; 
Then it in flames of Aetna wrought apart. 

And seven times dipped in the bitter wave 
Of hellish Styx, which hidden vertue to it gave. 

XXI. “ The vertue is, that nether steele nor stone 
The stroke thereof from entraunce may defend; 

Ne ever may be used by his fone, 

Ne forst his rightful owner to offend; 

Ne ever will it breake, ne ever bend : 

Wherefore Morddure it rightfully is hight. 

26 i 

Book II — Canto VIII 

In vaine therefore. P>TochIcs, should I lend 
The same to thee, against his loni to fight ; 

For sure yt would deceive thy Jailor and thy might.** 

XXII. “ Foolish old man,** said then the Pagan wroth, 

** That weenest words or charms mav force withstood: 
Soonc shalt thou set, and then Incite ve for troth, 

That I can car\-e with this inchiuintrtl hrond 
His Lords owne flesh.** Thercwiili out of lus bond 
That vertuous steele he rudely snaicht awav, 

And Guyons shield a!x>ut his wrest he lK»nd: 

So ready dight fierce l)alta11c to assiiv, 

And match his brother proud in battiilous aray. 

XXlll. By this, that slraungt-r kn.ght in presence < :in'e, 

And goodly salued them; who nouglil ugaitie 
Him answered, as courtesie l>ec:iine ; 

But with Sterne lookes, and slomachous disd.tine, 
Gave signes of grudge and discontentment vainc. 
Then, turning to the Palmer, he gan s]>y 
Where at his feet, with sorrowfnll demaync 
And deadly hew, an armed c'orse did lye, 

In whose dead face he redd great magnanim l v. 

XXIV. .Siiyd he then to the Palmer: Revc*rc‘nd Syre, 

What great mi'^fortune hath bc lidd this kmghl? 

Or did his life her faUiIl da*e expyre, 

Or did he fall by treason, c»r by figla? 

How ever, sure 1 rew his piltcnus plight.’* 

“ Not one, nor other,” sayd the TalmcT grave, 

“ Hath him befalne ; hut'clondc s of deadly night 
A while his heavy eylids cover'd have, 

And all his senccs drowned in dec*p sencelesse wave: 

XXV. “ Which those his cruell foes, that stand hereby, 
Making advauntage, U) revenge their spighl, 

Would him disarmc and treaten shamefully; 
Unworthie usage of rc^ doubted knight. 

But you, faire Sir, whose honourable sight 
Doth promise hope of helpc and timely grace. 

Mote I beseech to succour his .sad plight. 

And by your powre protect his feeble cacc? 

First pra> sc of knighthood is fowlc outrage to deface. 

262 The Faerie Queene 

XXVI. “ Palmer,” (said he) “ no knight so rude, I weene. 

As to doen outrage to a sleeping ghost; 

Ne was there ever noble corage seene, 

That in advauntage would his puissaunce host: 
Honour is least where oddes appeareth most. 

May bee, that better reason will aswage 
The rash revengers heat. Words, well dispost. 

Have secrete powre t’ appease inflamed rage : 

If not, leave unto me thy knights last patronage.” 

xxvii. Tho, turning to those brethren, thus bespoke: 

“ Ye warlike payre, ^hose valorous great might, 

It seemes, just wronges to vengeaunce doe provoke. 
To wreake your wrath on this dead seeming knight. 
Mote ought allay the storme of your despight, 

And settle patience in so furious heat ? 

Not to debate the chalenge of your right, 

But for his carkas pardon I entreat, 

Whom fortune hath already laid in lowest seat.” 

xxviil. To whom Cymochles said; “ For what art thou, 
That mak^st thy selfe his dayes-man, to prolong 
The vengeaunce prest ? Or who shall let me now 
On this vile body from to wreak my wrong. 

And made his carkas as the outcast dong? 

Why should not that dead carrion satisfye 
The guilt which, if he lived had thus long. 

His life for dew revenge should deare abyc? 

The trespass still doth live, albee the person dye.” 

XXIX. “ Indeed,” then said the Prince, “ the evill donne 
Dyes not, when breath the body first doth leave ; 

But from the grandsyre to the Nephewes sonne. 

And all his seede the curse doth often cleave. 

Till vengeaunce utterly the guilt bereave: 

So streightly God doth judge. But gentle Knight, 
That doth against the dead his hand upheave. 

His honour staines with rancour and despight. 

And great disparagment makes to his former might.” 

XXX. Pyrochles gan reply the second tyme. 

And to him said : “ Now, felon, sure I read. 

How that thou art partaker of his cryme: 

Book II— Canto VIII 263 

Therefore, by Termagaunt thou shiUt be dead/* 

With tfiat his !iand, more s,id then lonip of lead. 
Uplifting high, he weened uith Morddure. 

His owen good sword Morddure, to cleavr* his head. 
The faithfiill steelc such tre;ison no’tiid endure, 

But, swarving from the marke. his hordes life did assure. 

XXXI. Yet was the force so furious and so fi lh 

That horse and man it m;uie to rcelc as\ de: 

Nathdesse the Prim e wouM not forsake his sell. 

For well of yore he learned had to r\de, 

But full of anger fier.sly <o him (Tn de ; 

“ False traitour! inistrr.uini! lluui broken hast 
The law of armes to strike foe umlt fide: 

But thou thy treasons fruit, 1 hnpe, sh dt taste 
Right sowre, and feelc the law the wluch thou hast 

XXXII. with that his balefull speare he fien elv bent 

Against the Pagans brest, ami I In r< with lliuughl 
His cursed life out of her lodge h.ise rent; 

But cre the point arrived wlu re it ought, 

That seven fold shield, whu li lie from (iuvon brought, 
He cast betw(*en to \%ard the bitter stowml: 

Through all lh<»se fold» s the stt'cleiiead pass. igr wrought, 
And through his shoulder persl ; wherwith to groiinrl 
He grovdmg fell, all gored in his guslung w()und. 

XXXIII. Which when his brother saw, fraught with great gricf'‘ 
And wrath, he to him leapr<l furmnslv. 

And fowly s.iide: “ H> Mahoune, mrsed thirfc, 

'J'hat direfull -trok<* tliou <learelv s}i.ilt abv: ” 

Ihen, hurlin : i>() his harmr-full Made rat hv. 

Smote him sfi hugelv on his haughlie cn-st. 

That from his ‘•addle forced him to flv : 

Els mole It nc<ai» s downe t-> his manly brest 

Ha\e< 1‘ ft his head in t\vaine,and life thence disfKisscst. 

XXXIV. Now was the l’rin*c in d.iiingcrous distress!?, 

Wanting his sword when he on fo(;t shoiild fa'liti 
His single speare couhl doe him small redressc 
Against two foes of so exreeding imchf , 

1’lie least of wdiich was* h for an> knight. 

And now the other, whom he earst did daunt, 


The Faerie Queene 

Had reard him selfe againe to cruel fight 
Three times more furious and more puissaunt, 
Unmindful! of his wound^ of his fate ignoraunt. 

XXXV. So both attonce him charge on either syde 
With hideous strokes and importable powre, 

That forced him his ground to traverse wyde. 

And wisely watch to ward that deadly stowre; 

For in his shield, as thicke as stormie showre, 

Their strokes did raine: yet did he never quaile, 

Ne backward shrinke, but as a stedfast towre, 

Whom foe with double battry doth assaile, 

Them on her bulwarke beares, and bids them nought 

XXXVI. So stoutly he withstood their strong assay; 

Till that at last, when he advantage spyde, 

His poynant speare he thrust with puissant sway 
At proud Cymochles, whiles his shield was wyde, 

That through his thigh the mortall Steele did gryde: 
He, swarving with the force, within his flesh 
Did breake the laimce, and let the head abyde. 

Out of the wound the red blood flowed fresh. 

That underneath his feet soone made a purple plesh. 

XXXVII. Horribly then he gan to rage and rayle. 

Cursing his Gods, and him selfe damning deepe: 

Als when his brother saw the red blood rayle 
Adowne so fast, and all his armour steepe, 

For very felnesse lowd he gan to weepe. 

And said; “ Caytive, curse on thy cruell hond, 

That twise hath spedd ; yet shall it not thee keepe 
From the third brunt of this my fatall brond : 

Lo I where the drcadfull Death behynd thy backe doth 

XXXVIII. With that he strooke, and thother strooke withall. 
That nothing seemd mote beare so monstrous might : 
The one upon his covered shield did fall, 

And glauncing downe would not his owner byte; 

But thother did upon his troncheon smyte. 

Which hewing quite asunder, further way 
It made, and on his hacqueton did lyte, 

Book II-— Canto VIII 265 

The which dividing with importune sway, 

It seized in his right side, and there the dint did stay. 

XXXIX. Wyde was the wound, and a large lukewarme flood, 
Red as the Rose, thence gushed grievously ; 

That when the Paynym spyde the streaming blood. 
Gave him great hart and hoj>e of victory. 

On th’ other side, in huge perplexilv 

The Prince now stood, having his weajHin broke; 

Nought could he hurt, but still at warde did ly : 

Yet with his ironcheon so rudely stroke 
Cymochles twise, that twise him fi>rst his fcnit rcvi»ke. 

XL. \\ horn when the Palmer saw in siu h dislrcssc, 

Sir Guyon‘s sword he lightly to him raught, 

And said; “ Kayre Sonne, great (iod thv right hand 

To use that sword so well as he it ought! 

Glad was the knight, and with fresh rounige fraught. 
When as againe he armed felt his hond : 

Then like a Lyon, which hath long lime .siiught 
His rohl)ed whelpes, arul at the last them fond 
Kmongst the shcpchearti swayries, then wexclh wood 
and yond : 

XLI. So fierce he laid al>out him, and <lcalt blowes 
On either side, that neither mayle could hold, 

Ne shield defend the thunder of his throwes; 

Now to Pyrochles many strokes he told; 

Eft to Cymochles twise so many fold ; 

Then, backe .igainc turning his busic lionel, 

Them both atemce compehj with courage Ixild 
To yield wide way to his hart-lltrilling brond ; 

And though they IxAh stuoel stiffr, yet coulcl not lK>lh 

XLII. As salvage Pull, whom two fierce mastives bayt, 

When rancour doth with nigc him once engore. 

Forgets with war\' w^ardc them to awayt, 

But with his dreadfull homes them drives afore. 

Or flings aloft, or trcadcs dowme in the flore, 

Beathing out wrath, and bellowing disdainc, 

That all the forest quakes to hcarc him rorc: 


The Faerie Queene 

So rag’d Prince Arthur twixt his foemen twaine, 

That neither could his mightie puissaunce sustaine. 

XLiii. But ever at Pyrochles when he smitt, 

(Who Guyons shield cast ever him before. 

Whereon the Faery Queenes pourtract was writt,) 

His hand relented and the stroke forbore, 

And his dcare hart the picture gan adore ; 

Which oft the Paynim sav’d from deadly stowre: 

But him henceforth the same can save no more; 

For now arrived is his fatall howre. 

That no’te avoyded te by earthly skill or powre. 

XLiv. For when Cymochles saw the fowle reproch, 

Which them appeached, prickt with guiltie shame 
And inward griefe, he fiercely gan approch. 

Resolv’d to put away that loathly blame, 

Or dye with honour and desert of fame; 

And on the haubergh stroke the Prince so sore. 

That quite disparted all the linked frame. 

And pierced to the skin, but bit no more; 

Yet made him twise to reele, that never moov’d afore. 

XLV. Whereat renfierst with wrath and sharp regret. 

He stroke so hugely with his borrowd blade. 

That it empierst the Pagans burganet; 

And, cleaving the hard steele, did deepe invade 
Into his head, and cruell passage made 
Quite through his brayne. He, tumbling downe on 

Breathd out his ghost, which, to th’ infernall shade 

Fast flying, there eternall torment found 

For all the sinnes wherewith his lewd life did abound. 

XLVI. Which when his german saw, the stony feare 
Ran to his hart, and all his sence dismayd, 

Ne thenceforth life ne corage did appeare; 

But as a man whom hellish feendes have frayd, 

Long trembling still he stoode: at last thus sayd; 

** Tray tour, what hast thou doen? How ever may 
Thy cursed hand so cruelly have swayd 
Against that knight! Harrow and well away! 

After so wicked deede why liv’st thou lenger day? 


Book II— Canto VIII 

XLVii. With that all desperate, as loathing li^dit, 

And with reven^^e desyniij; M>one to tlve. 

Assembling all lus foree and utmost iniglu, 

With his owne swerd he fierce at him did five. 

And strooke, and foynd, anti la^ht outrageously^ 
Withouten reason or reganl. Well knew 
The IVince, with paciencc and sulleraunce sly 
So hasty he*it s«H»ne cooled tt» sululew : 

1 ho, w luMi this l>realhle‘' e w t>\e, bat leil gan rc'ni'w. 

XLVlir. As when a windy tcmpi*%t hlowi th h\e. 

'I'hat nothing m.iv withstand his slornu* stowie. 

The tiowdes. as thmges aflravd, Udiire him live, 

Ihit all so soone as his outrageous f>i»wre 
Is kiyd, ihev Tiercel v then bc‘gin to show re; 

And, as in si-orne ol his spent si.uiuv sjji^hi. 

Now all attonic their malue loitli do poure: 

So (lid rriiK'c Arthur Ixare huuM lfe m fight, 

And sufTred rash IVroihles waste his vdle might 

XLIX. At last, wlien as the Sara/in per<ei\’M 

How that slraungc? sword refiisd to serv'c his neede, 
hut when he stroke most strong th<; dint deceiv’d, 

He flong It from him: and. de\f»\d of dreed, 

Upon him hghtiv leajung williout heed 
Twixt his two miLjhly armes engr.isped fast, 
lliinking to oMTthrowe and d<»wMe him Ired: 

But h:m m strength and skill the Prime surpast, 

And through his nimble sleight did under him down cast. 

L. Nought booled il the Pay rum then to slrj\e; 

Tor as a Ihttur in the U.igh s c lawe. 

That may not ho[>e by flight to vapi- alive, 

Still waytes for dealli with and trembling aw; 

.So he, now subject to the vi< lours law, 

Did not once move, nor upward cast Ihs eye, 

For vile di'«lame .uid rancour, whi« h (hd gn.iw 
His h.irt in Iwaine with sad mclanrholy, 

As one that loathed life, and yet d- sp)sd to dye. 

1 1. But full of princely bounty and great mind, 

The Conquerour nought cared him to slay; 

But casting wronges and all revenge l>chind, 


The Faerie Queene 

More glory thought to give life then decay, 

And sayd; “ Paynim, this is thy dismall day; 

Yet if thou wilt renounce thy miscreaunce. 

And my trew liegeman yield thy selfe for ay. 

Life will I graunt thee for thy valiaunce, 

And all thy wronges will wipe out of my sovenaunce.*' 

Lii. “ Foole ! (sayd the Pagan) “ I thy gift defye 
But use thy fortune as it doth befall; 

And say, that I not overcome doe dye, 

But in despight of life for death doe call.” 

Wroth was the Prince, and sory yet withall. 

That he so wilfully refused grace; 

Yet sith his fate so cruelly did fall, 

His shining Helmet he gan soone unlace. 

And left his headlesse body bleeding all the place. 

Liii. By this Sir Guyon from his traunce awakt. 

Life having maystered her sencelesse foe, 

And looking up, whenas his shield he lakt 
And sword saw not, he wexed wondrous woe; 

But when the Palmer, whom he long ygoe 
Had lost, he by him spyde, right glad he grew. 

And saide; ** Deare sir, whom wandring to and iro 
I long have lackt, I joy thy face to vew; 

Firme is thy faith, whom daunger never fro me drew. 

Liv. “ But read, what wicked hand hath robbed mee 
Of my good sword and shield? ” The Palmer, glad 
With so fresh hew uprysing him to see. 

Him answered: “ Fayre sonne, be no whit sad 
For want of weapons; they shall soone be had.” 

So gan he to discourse the whole debate. 

Which that straunge knight for him sustained had. 
And those two Sarazins confounded late. 

Whose carcases on ground were horribly prostrate. 

Lv. Which when he heard, and saw the tokens trew, 

His hart with great affection was embayd, 

And to the Prince, bowing with reverence dew 
As to the patrone of hb life, thus sayd ; 

“ My Lord, my liege, by whose most gratious ayd 
I live this day, and see my foes subdewd. 

Book II — Canto VIII 


What may sulVice to l>e for meedc repay d 
Of so great graces as ve have me shewd, 

But to be ever bound ” 

Lvi. To whom the Infant thus; “ Fayre Sir, what need 
(lood tumes be counted as a servile btmil 
To bind their doeis to recei\e their inceii? 

Are not all knightes by oath bound to withstond 
Oppressours powre by annes aiul puissant hond? 
Suthse that 1 have done my dew in place.” 

So goodly purpose they together fond 
Of kindnesse and of courteous agL:ra<T; 

The whiles false Archimage and Alin fled 



The Faerie Queene 


The house of Temperance, in wliicli 
Doth sober Alma dwell, 

Besiegd of many foes, whom straung- 
er knightes to flight compcll. 

I. Of all Gods workes which doe this worlde adome, 

There is no one more faire and excellent 

Then is mans body, both for powre and forme, 

Whiles it is kept in sober government; 

But none then it more fowle and indecent, 

Distempred through misrule and passions bace ; 

It growes a Monster, and incontinent 
Doth loose his dignity and native grace: 

Behold, who list, both one and other in this place. 

II. After the Paynim brethren conquer'd were, 

The Briton Prince recov’ring his stolne sword. 

And Guyon his lost shield, they both yfere 
Forth passed on their way in fayre accord. 

Till him the Prince with gentle court did bord: 

“ Sir knight, mote I of you this court’sy read. 

To weet why on your shield, so goodly scord, 

Beare ye the picture of that Ladies head ? 

Full lively is the semblaunt, though the substance dead.’ 

III. ** Fayre Sir," (sayd he) “ if in that picture dead 
Such life ye read, and vertue in vaine shew; 

What mote ye wcene, if the trew lively-head 
Of that most glorious visage ye did vew : 

But yf the beauty of her mind ye knew, 

That is, her bounty, and imperiall powre, 

Thousand times fairer than her mortall hew, 

0 ! how great wonder would your thoughts devoure, 
And infinite desire into your spirite poure. 

IV. “ Shee is the mighty Queene of Faery, 

Whose faire retraitt I in my shield doe beare; 
Shee is the flowre of grace and chastity 

Book II — Canto IX 


Throughout the world, renowmed far and neare, 

My liefe. my liege, my Soveraine. my deare. 

Whose glor\" shineth as the morning stoire, 

And with her light the earth cnlumines cleiirc: 

Far reach her mercies, and her praises fat re, 

.Vs well in state of |H'ace, as puissaunce in warre/* 

V. “ Thrise happv man,’' (saiil then the Hriton knight) 
“ Whom gracituis lott and thv great vahaunce 
Have marlo thee sohlier of that Princesse hiight, 
Which with her bounty an<i uKul countcnaunce 
Doth blesse her servaunls.^and tluan high adx auncc. 
How may straimLre knight ho|K' ever to aspire, 

By faithfull servue and meete amenaiiiu'e, 

Unto such bhssc? sufficient were that hire 
For losse of tlvmsand lives, to die at her desire.*' 

VI. Said Guyon, “ Noble l-ord, what meed so great, 

Or grace of earthly Prince st) soveraine. 

But by your wondrous worth and warlike feat 
Ye well may hop(‘, and casely attained 
But wore your will her sold to enterlaine. 

And numbrod bo inongst knights cd M.i\»lenhed, 
Great guerdon, well I wote, should you nuname, 
And in her favor high l>ce reckoned, 

As Arthcgall and Sophy now beene honore^l/' 

VII. Certes,’* (then said the Prince) “ I ('lod avow, 
That sith I armes anrl knighthoml first did filight, 
Mv whole desire lialh beene, and yet is now, 

To serv'e that Quecne with al rny powre and migdit. 
Seven times the Sunne, with liis lamp-burning light. 
Hath walkte about the work), and I no lesse, 

Sith of that G(Mld<'sse I have sought the .sight, 

Yet no where can her find: such happinesse 
Heven doth to me envy, and fortune favourlr^sse." 

viri. “ Fortune, the foe of famous chevi.sauncc, 

’ “ Seldom ” (said Ciuyon) “ yields to vertue aide, 

But in her way throwes mischiefe and mischaunce, 
W'hereby her course is slept and passage staid: 

But you, faire Sir, be not herewith dtsmaid. 

But consunt keepe the way in which ye sund; 

272 The Faerie Queene 

Which, were it not that I am els delaid 
With hard adventure which I have in hand, 

I labour would to guide you through al Faery land.” 

IX. “ Gramercy Sir,” said he; “ but mote I weete 
What straunge adventure doe ye now pursew.? 

Perhaps my succour or advizement meete 
Mote stead you much your purpose to subdew.” 

Then gan Sir Guyon all the story shew 

Of false Acrasia, and her wicked wiles; 

Which to avenge the Palmer him forth drew 
From Faery court. So tdlked they, the whiles 
They wasted had much way, and measurd many miles. 

X. And now faire Phoebus gan decline in haste 
His weary wagon to the Westerne vale, 

Whenas they spide a goodly castle, plaste 
Foreby a river in a pleasaunt dale ; 

Which choosing for that evenings hospitale. 

They thither marcht: but when they came in sight, 

And from their sweaty Coursers did avale, 

They found the gates fast barred long ere night. 

And every loup fast lockt, as fearing foes despight. 

XI. Which when they saw, they weened fowle reproch 
Was to them doen, their entraunce to forestall. 

Till that the Squire gan nigher to approch. 

And wind his home under the castle wall. 

That with the noise it shooke as it would fall. 

Eftsoones forth looked from the highest spire 
The watch, and lowd unto the knights did call. 

To weete what they so rudely did require? 

Who gently answered. They entraunce did desire. 

XII. “ Fly fly, good knights,” (said he) “ fly fast away. 

If that your lives ye love, as meete ye should; 

Fly fast, and save your selves from neare decay; 

Here may ye not have entraunce, though we would : 

We would, and would againe, if that we could; 

But thousand enemies about us rave, 

And with long siege us in the castle hould. 

Seven yeares this wize they us besieged have. 

And many good knights slaine that have us sought to save.” 


Book II — Canto IX 

XIII. Thus os he spoke, loel with outra^ious crv 
A thousand villeins rownd alKiiit them s\%armd 
Out of the rockes and cave^ adjoMuug nye; 

Vile caitivo wretches, ra^»^etl, rude, deformd, 

All threalninj: death, all in .siraunj:e n:anner ariud; 
Some with unwtldy clubs, some with lon|;t s[x*ares, 
Some rusty knifes, ^ome staves in tier warmd: 

Sterne was their looke; like w ild ama/ed stearins, 
Starinp with hollow eies. and slide upstanding* heares. 

XIV. Fierslv at first those kniudits thev tlal assa\le, 

And drove them t«» rctoil^; but when a^aine 
They j^ave fresh charj^e. their lt>rces t^an to fa\lt% 
Unhable their enctaiiUer to su'^lame. 

For with such puissaunte ami impt inous rnaine 
Those Champions broke on them, that ftiist them (Iv, 
Like scattered Slu-ept*. whenas the Shepherds swaine 
A Lvon and a I'li^ie doth « spve. 

With greedy pate forth rushm.; from the f»»iest n\e 

XV. A while they Hed, but rctournd aj^aine 
With greater fur\ then before was fownd; 

And evermore their < ruell ( apitaim* 

Sought with his raskall routs t' im lose them rownd, 
And^ overronne, to tread them to the grownd: 

But soone the knight > with their bright burning blades 
Broke thi ir ru(h‘ troupes, and ordr rs did <onh»wml, 
Hewing and sl.islung at their idle sh ules: 

For though they boilie^ si_«in, \et sublaume from 
them fades. 

xvi. As when a swarme of (ina ts at e\entide 
Out of the fennes of .Mian doe arjs»-, 

Their murmuring small trompetts sownderi wi<le^ 
Whiles in the aire their flu-tnng arm> Hies, 

That as a cloud doth seerne to dim tlw; skH s; 

Xe man nor l>east rnav rest, or take repast 
For their sharf>e wounds and no\ous injuries, 

Till the fierce Northernc wind with blustnng blast 
Doth blow them quite away, and in the 0<ean fast. 

XVII. Thus when they had that troublous rout disf>erst, 

Unto the castle gate they come againe. 

And entraunce crav’d which was denied erst. 

274 The Faerie Queene 

Now when report of that their perlous paine, 

And combrous conflict which they did sustaine, 

Came to the Ladies eare which there did dwell, 

Shee forth issewed with a goodly traine 
Of Squires and Ladies equipaged well, 

And entertained them right fairely, as befell. 

XVIII. Alma she called was ; a virgin bright. 

That had not yet felt Cupides wanton rage; 

Yet was shee woo’d of many a gentle knight. 

And many a Lord of noble parentage, 

That sought with her to lincke in marriage : 

For shee was faire as faire mote ever bee, 

And in the flowre now of her freshest age; 

Yet full of grace and goodly modestee, 

That even heven rejoyced her sweete face to see. 

XIX. In robe of lilly white she was arayd, 

That from her shoulder to her heele downe raught ; 

The traine whereof loose far behind her strayd, 
Braunched with gold and perle most richly wrought, 
And borne of two faire Damsels which were taught 
That service well. Her yellow golden heare 
Was trimly woven and in tresses wrought, 

Ne other tire she on her head did weare, 

But crowned with a garland of sweete Rosiere. 

XX. Goodly shee entertaind those noble knights. 

And brought them up into her castle hall; 

Where gentle court and gracious delight 
Shee to them made, with mildnesse virginall. 

Shewing her selfe both wise and liberall. 

Then, when they rested had a season dew. 

They her besought of favour speciall 

Of that faire Castle to affoord them vew: 

Shee graunted ; and, them leading forth, the same did shew 

XXI. First she them lead up to the Castle wall. 

That was so high as foe might not it clime, 

And all so faire and fensible withall ; 

Not built of bricke, ne yet of stone and lime. 

But of thing like to that ^Egyptian slime, 

Whereof king Nine whilome built Babell towre. 

Book II — Canto IX 275 

But O prcat pittv! that no lender lime 
So goodly workemanship should not endure: 

Soone it must tiime to earth; no earthiv tiling is sure, 

XXII. The frame thererd seemd pjirtlv nrrtdivre, 

And part ire ; O worke divme! 

Those two the lirst and last [>n^fx>riions arc; 

The one inijxirfeci, nif^rLill, firm in me. 

Th* other imniortall, perfect, maseulme; 

And twixt them Uith a <|ua<lrate was the Ikisc 
Proportiond equally hy seven and nine; 

Nine w'as the nrele settjn heavens place; 

All which compacted made a goodlv Diapase. 

XXIII. Therein two ^ates wore placed seemly well: 

The one before, by which all m did pas. 

Did th’ other far in workmanshiji exccll; 

For not of wood, nor of enduniig bras. 

But of more worthy substance framM it was; 

Doubly disparted, it did locke and ( lose. 

That when it locked none mij^ht thorough pas, 

And w'hen it opened, no man might it <Iom‘, 

Still open to their fncndcs, ami < loseil to their foes, 

XXIV. Of hewen stone the f>orch was favrelv wToii.vht, 

Stone more of val( w, and more smooth ami fine, 

Then Jett or Marble far from Ireland brought; 

Over the which was cast a wamliing vine, 

Knchaccd with a wanton yvie twine; 

And over it a fayri' J'firtruJli.s hong, 

Which to tlie gale; dirccilv did iruline 

With comely compasse am! romjiai ture strong, 

Nether unseemly short, nor \ct e\» tiding long. 

XXV. Within the Barbican a Peirter sate, 

Day and night duely keeping watch and ward; 

Nor wight nor wonl mote passe out of the gale, 

But in good orrler, and with dew regard; 

Uttcrers of secrets he from thence df bard, 

Bablcrs of folly, and blazers of cryme : 

His larumbcll might lowd and wyde I>c hard 
When cause requyrd, but never out of time; 

Early and late it rong, at evening and at prime. 

276 The Faerie Queene 

XXVI. And rownd about the porch on every syde 
Twise sixteene warders satt, all armed bright 
In glistring steele, and strongly fortifyde: 

Tall yeomen seemed they and of great might, 

And were enraunged ready still for fight. 

By them as Alma passed with her guestes, 

They did obeysaunce, as beseemed right, 

And then againe retoumed to their restes : 

The Porter eke to her did lout with humble gesles. 

XXVII. Thence she them brought into a stately Hall, 
Wherein were many tables fayre dispred, 

And ready dight with drapets festivall, 

Against the viaundes should be ministred. 

At th’ upper end there sate, yclad in red 
Downe to the ground, a comely personage, 

That in his hand a white rod menaged : 

He Steward was, hight Diet; rype of age, 

And in demeanure sober, and in counsell sage. 

XXVIII. And through the Hall there walked to and fro 
A jolly yeoman, Marshall of the same, 

Whose name was Appetite : he did bestow 
Both guestes and meate, when ever in they came. 
And knew them how to order without blame, 

As him the Steward badd. They both attone 
Did dewty to their I^dy, as became ; 

Who, passing by, forth ledd her guestes anone 
Into the kitchen rowme, ne spard for nicenesse none. 

XXIX. It was a vaut ybuilt for great dispence. 

With many raunges reard along the wall. 

And one great chimney, whose long tonnell thence 
The smoke forth threw. And in the midst of all 
There placed was a caudron wide and tall 
Upon a mightie fomace, burning whott, 

More whott then Aetn’, or flaming Mongiball 
For day and night it brent, ne ceased not. 

So long as any thing it in the caudron gott. 

XXX. But to delay the heat, least by mischaunce 

It might breake out and sett the whole on fyre, 
There added was by goodly ordinaunce 


Book II — Canto IX 

An huge great payre of lu*llowes. which did sty re 
Continually, and ct^oling breath inspyre. 

Alwut the Caitdron many CiM>kes accoyld 
With hookes and Litlles, as m od did rctpjyre; 

The whyles the viauiules in the vesscll (xiyld 
Tl^ey did alK)ut tlicir businevse sweat, and sorelv toyKl. 

XXXI. The m. lister ('ooke raid ('ofuwtion; 

A rarefull man, anti full of roiiulv guv sc. 

'rhe kitchin ( lerke, that lught Digestuui. 

Did order all tlC Achates in seemelv wise, 

And set them forth, as tvell he ciuilil devise. 

I'hc rest had sever.ill oHm cs as^yncl; 

Some to remove the scum as it did rise; 

Others to Ixare the siiine away <inl mynd; 

And (itliers it to use according t«» his k\nd. 

XXXII. IJul all the litiuoui, whuh w.vs lowle and wxsle, 

Not good nor srr\ it e.ihlt* < lies for ought, 

'Fii' y in another rt»\vnd vtssell plaste. 

Till hv a conduit j>ipe it therne wire brought: 

And all the rest, that novou^ was and nought, 

IW se(ret w.iyes, that none mi;:)it it espv. 

W'.Ls ( Itise (onvaid, ami tc» tlx ba< kgate lirought, 

That < h'ped was Port|ui]ine, whereby 
It was avoidi d <|uite. .mil thrownc’ out pinily. 

XXXIII. W hich goodly onler and great workmans .skill 

Whenas those knighti s iHheld, with rare delight 
And ga/ang wondi r thev llu ii mmdes did fill, 

I'or nevi r had ihev siene so slraunge a sight. 

Thenee bat ke againe faire Alma rl them right, 

And soone into a goodly Parlour brought, 

That was with royall arr.e> nihly dighl, 

In whii'h was nothing pourlrahecl nor wTcjught*, 

Not wrought nor pourtrahed, hut e;cde to lie thought. 

XXXIV. .\nfi in the midst thereof ufKin the floure 
A lovely bevy of faire Larlies sate, 

(V)urted of many a jolly ParaiTHiurc, 
llic which them did in modest wise amate, 

And each one sought his ].ady to aggrate: 

And eke emongst them litlc Cupid playd 


The Faerie Queene 

His wanton sportes, being retoumed late 
From his fierce warres, and having from him layd 
His cruel bow, wherewith he thousands hath dismayd 

XXXV. Diverse delights they fownd them selves to please; 
Some song in sweet consort; some laught for joy; 
Some plaid with strawes; some ydly satt at ease; 

But other some could not abide to toy; 

All pleasaunce was to them griefe and annoy : 

This fround, that faund, the third for shame did blush, 
Another seemd envious or coy, 

Another in her teeth did gnaw a rush ; 

But at these straungers presence every one did hush. 

XXXVI. Soone as the gracious Alma came in place. 

They all attonce out of their seates arose, 

And to her homage made with humble grace : 

Whom when the knights beheld, they gan dispose 
Themselves to court, and each a damzcll chose. 

The Prince by chaunce did on a Lady light, 

That was right faire and fresh as morning rose, 

But somwhat sad and solemne eke in sight. 

As if some pensive thought constraind hcrgentlespriglit. 

XXXVII. In a long purple pall, whose skirt with gold 
Was fretted all about, she was arayd ; 

And in her hand a Poplar braunch did hold : 

To whom the Prince in courteous manor sayd ; 

** Gentle Madame, why beene ye thus dismayd. 

And your faire bcautie doe with sadnes spill 
Lives any that you hath thus ill apayd ? 

Or doen you love ? or doen you lack your will ? 

What ever bee the cause, it sure beseemes you ill.” 

XXXVIII. “ Fayre Sir,” said she, halfe in disdaineful wise, 

“ How is it that this mood in me ye blame. 

And in your selfe doe not the same advise ? 

Him ill beseemes anothers fault to name. 

That may unwares bee blotted with the same: 

Pensive I yeeld I am, and sad in mind. 

Through great desire of glory and of fame ; 

Ne ought, I weene, are ye therein behynd. 

That have three years sought one, yet no where can her 

Book II — Canto IX 27 

XXXIX. The Prince wits inly moved at her spn^ach* 

\yell weeting irew ’whiit she r;Lvldv lt*ld; 

\et wall faire semhhiunt st)ught to Iwde the hnnirh, 
\yhic'h chaunge ot colour <iid jHTlorce unfoKl, 

Now seeming Ihuning whott. now stoi;v cold: 
llio, turning soft aside, he <iid int|uvre 
What wi-ht she was that lN»plar hiaiinch tlid hold? 
It answered was. her name was Pi a\ s-<iesne, 
lhat hy well doing souglil to honour to asp\ re. 

XL. I he whylrs the h.ierv knight tliil entt rtavne 
Another D.unsell of gentl»- tn w. 
lhat w;is iiglit f.ivre and motiest of deniavne, 

Put lhat too oft sh(‘ chaung’d hi r n ilive hew. 
Slrannge was hi r tere, and .ill hi i garment blew, 

( lose rownd aixnit In 1 luckl with nianv a ]dight: 

I poll her fist the laid, whiih shonm ih \ew. 

And keepes in c ovi rts t lose from living wight. 

Did silt, as \ei ,Lshanu d how lude J\in ilid her dighl. 

XM. So long as (In von with In r toinrnonrd, 

riUo th(‘ giownd sh<- i.i't her modi st i\e, 

And ever ami anone with ros\ rid 

'I'he hashfiill Mood her ^now \ i hi ekes did d\e, 

'I'hal her iH-iame, as polishl \vnr\ 

\\ hii h eimmng ( raftesman hand h.ith nverl.iyd 
With fa) re vermilion m pure ( 
fiTcal Wonder had the kniglit to ‘-f c tin m.iyii 
So straiingi ly [lassnmed, and to la r gently said: 

XLii. “ hayn* Dam/ell, .si i nn ih by voiir troubled (heare, 
dliat either me too bold ve wi i ne^ this w 
^’'olI to nu)l< st, or other ill to feare 
That in the se< ret of your hart c lose lyes, 

TToni win nie it doth, as cloud from se.i, aryv. 

If it lx* 1, of jiardon 1 you pray; 

Put if ought ebe that I mole not ili vyse, 

I will, if please you it disnire. ass.iy 
To case you of that til, so wlsi ly as J mav.** 

XLiii. She answerd nought, but more abasbt for sliamc 
Held downe her head, the wlnli s her lovely face 
The flashing blood with blushing did inflame, 

28 o 

The Faerie Queene 

And the strong passion mard her modest grace, 

That Guyon mervayld at her uncouth cace ; 

Till Alma him bespake : “ Why wonder yee, 

Faire Sir, at that which ye so much embrace ? 

She is the fountaine of your modestee; 

You shamefast are, but Shamefastnes it selfe is shee/’ 

XLiv. Thereat the Fife did blush in privitee. 

And turned his face away, but she the same 
Dissembled faire, and faynd to oversee. 

Thus they awhile with court and goodly game 
Themselves did solace e%ch one with his Dame, 

Till that great Lady thence away them sought 
To vew her Castles other wondrous frame : 

Up to a stately Turret she them brought, 

Ascending by ten steps of Alabaster wrought. 

XLV. That Turrets frame most admirable was. 

Like highest heaven compassed around, 

And lifted higli above this earthly masse,” 

Which it survewd as hils doen lower ground ; 

But not on ground mote like to this be found : 

Not that, which antique Cadmus whylome built 
In Thebes, which Alexander did confound; 

Nor that proud towre of Troy, though richly guilt. 

From which young Hectors blood by cruell Greekes wa:* 

XLVI. The roofe hereof was arched over head. 

And deckt with flowers and herbars daintily: 

Two goodly Beacons, set in watches stead. 

Therein gave light, and flamd continually ; 

For they of living fire most subtilly 
Were made, and set in silver sockets bright. 

Cover’d with lids deviz’d of substance sly, 

That readily they shut and open might. 

O! who can tell the prayses of that makers might? 

XLVii. Ne can I tell, ne can I stay to tell. 

This parts ^eat workemanship and wondrous powre. 
That all this other worldes worke doth excell, 

And likest is unto that heavenly towre 

That God hath built for his owne blessed bowre. 

Therein were divers rowmes, and divers stages; 


Book II — Canto IX 

But three the chicfcst and of greatest powre^ 

In which there dwelt three lionorable sagt's. 

The wisest men, I weene. that lived in their ages. 

XLMii, Not he, W'hoin (ireece, the Ni^urse t>f ail gcKHl arts, 

Bv Phtehus doome the wisest tlunight alive, 

Wight Ih* conipar d to these bv inanv j>;irts: 

Nor that sage Pylian s\re, whuli did survive 
Three ages, such as inurtall men tt)ntrive. 

By whose iulvise old Pnains t itie ft 11, 

With these in praise of pollit les mote stiive. 

These three in tliose three rowines did sondrv dwell, 
And counselli (1 faire Alina how to governe wf 11. 

xi.ix. The first of lh(‘m eouhl things to etune foresee; 

The next could of thinges present best advi/e ; 

I he third things past could keej) in rueinoree: 

So that no time nt»r reason could .in/t*. 

But that tlie same could on«* of these compri/e, 

Kor-thy the first dul in the forepart sit, 

'I'hal nougiit mote hinder his oimke pirpidize: 

He had a sharpe foresight and working wil 
That neM r idle wits, ne on< <• would r(st a whit. 

L. His chamlKT was dispainte<i all within 

With sundry colours, m the winch were writ 
Infinite sh.ipes of thmges disperseil thin; 

Some siu h tis ui the world were ne\ir vit, 

Nc can devized be of ni<irlal] wit , 

Some daily s< < ne and knowen by iht ir names, 

Such its in idle fantitsM s do flit; 

Infemall Hiigs, ( Vntaurs, bendes. Mi|){>odiimes, 

Apes, Lyons, A< gles,()wles,fooles. lovers, ( hildrcn, Dames 

II. And all the chamlwr filled was with fives 

Which buzzeiJ all aUmt, and m;idc sin h sound 
lliat they encomhred all mens earcs and eyes; 

Like many swarmes of Ihrs itssembled round, 

After their hives with honny do alniund. 

All those were idle though tes and fanUtsies, 

Devices, dreames, opinions unsound, 

Shewes, visions, s<>oth-sayes, and prophesies; 

And all that fained is, as leasings, tales, and lies. 

202 The Faerie Queene 

Lii. Emongst them all sate he which wonned there. 

That hight Phan tastes by his nature trew; 

A man of yeares yet fresh, as mote appere, 

Of swarth complexion, and of crabbed hew. 

That him full of melancholy did shew; 

Bent hollow beetle browes, sharpe staring eyes, 

That mad or foolish seemd : one by his vcw 
Mote deeme him borne with ill-disposed skyes, 

When oblique Satume sate in th* house of agonyes. 

Liii. Whom Alma having shewed to her guestes. 

Thence brought them tof the second rowme, whose wals 
Were painted faire with memorable gestes 
Of famous Wisards; and with picturals 
Of Magistrates, of courts, of tribunals. 

Of commen-wealthes, of states, of pollicy. 

Of lawes, of judgementes, and of decretals, 

All artes, all science, all Philosophy, 

And all that in the world was ay thought wittily. 

Liv. Of those that rowme was full; and them among 
There sate a man of ripe and perfect age. 

Who did them meditate all his life long. 

That through continuall practise and usage 
He now was growne right wise and wondrous sage: 
Great pleasure had those straunger knightes to see 
His goodly reason and grave personage. 

That his disciples both desyrd to bee; 

But Alma thence them led to th’ hindmost rowme of three. 

LV. That chamber seemed ruinous and old, 

And therefore was removed far behind. 

Yet were the wals, that did the same uphold. 

Right firme and strong, though somewhat they declind; 
And therein sat an old old man, halfe blind. 

And all decrepit in his feeble corse, 

Yet lively vigour rested in his mind, 

And recompenst them with a bitter scorse : 

Weake body wel is chang’d for minds redoubled forsc. 

LVi. This man of infinite remembraunce was, 

And things foregone through many ages held. 

Which he recorded still as they did pas, 

Ne suffred them to perish through long eld. 

Book II — Canto IX 28^ 

As all things els the whicli this world doth weld; 

But laid them up in his inimortall M rine, 

Where they for ever incorrupied ilweld; 

The warres he well rememlwl of king Nine, 

Of old .\ss,iracus, ami In.irhus diN me, 

LVii. Tlie yeares of Nesto r nothing wnr to Ins, 

Ne yet Malhiisalern, though hmge'*! h\’il; 

P'or he rememhied both their inlam 
Ne wonder then, if that he were d^ piiv’d 
Of native strength now that he tiiern Mirxiv'd. 

His rhainher all was hangfi ahout with rolls 
And old riTords from aimeient limes tleii\d. 

Some ma<le in ho<iks, M>mt‘ m l<mg paiehnif nl scrolls, 

1 hilt were idl wcum eaten .iml full n| i .uikt r holes. 

LVIII. Amidst them all he m a < haire was sell. 

'lossing and luinmg them withouli ri end. 

But for he was unhahle them !(» fett, 

A litle hoy did (m him still attend 
To rfa(!i, when evir he for ougln <!.d send, 

Ami oft when thmges were lost, or l.iid .unis, 

'I'hat hoy lhi*m sought ami unto Inin did lenri; 

Tlu reforc he Anamnestes < Iep<*d i . . 

Ami that old man fvumm slts. hv their pio[>ert’s. 

MX, 'Hie knightes tm re entring did him re\ i ren< e dew, 

Ami wondre«l at his emlh s ,<• < \» ? i ;\e ; 

'I hen as lhe\ his lahrar v to \i*u, 

And antKjue K<‘g( sters lur to ,i\ i>e, 

'I’here < haiim < d to tin rnn* • . h.ind to n/e 
An aum u nt iinnke, hight Ihjtnn , 

Thai <>f this lands first <on^jue^t did ih \j/r, 

Anri old fliMuon into K'ginant' . 

'J'lll it rediiei'd was U» om mans go\ » i nerm nts. 

LX. Sir (hiyon ihaun''l eke on an<#tlu r h<K)k<*^ 

That hight AtUiqutirc of harry hnul : 

In whu’h whenas lie gn e<hly did looke, 

Th’ ofspring of lll\tsanj] l*aer\es th#re he fond, 

As it delivered wa.s from bond tri Imnd: 

Whereat they, burning both with ffrvfnt fire 
Tlieir countreys aunc e'.trv to und» rsiond, 

Crav’d leave of Alma and that iigrd sire 

To read those booke.s; who gia^Jy grauritcd their desire. 


The Faerie Queene 


A chronicle of Briton kinps, 

From Brute to Uthers rayne; 

And rolls of Elfin Emperours, 

Till time of Gloriane. 

I. Who now shall give unto me words and sound 
Equall unto this haughfy enterprise ? 

Or who shall lend me wings, with which from ground 
My lowly verse may loftily arise, 

And lift it selfe unto the highest skyes? 

More ample spirit than hitherto was wount 
Here needes me, whiles the famous auncestrycs 
Of my most dreaded Soveraigne I recount, 

By which all earthly Princes she doth far surmount. 

II. Ne under Sunne that shines so wide and faire. 
Whence all that lives does borrow life and light. 

Lives ought that to her linage may compaire; 

Which though from earth it be derived right 
Yet doth it selfe stretch forth to hevens hight. 

And all the world with wonder overspred; 

A labor huge, exceeding far my might. 

How shall fraile pen, with feare disparaged. 

Conceive such sovcraine glory and great bountyhed 7 

III. Argument worthy of Maconian quill; 

Or rather worthy of great Phoebus rote. 

Whereon the ruines of great Ossa hill, 

And triiimphes of Phlegraean Jove, he wrote. 

That all the Gods admird his lofty note. 

But if some relish of that hevenly lay 
His learned daughters would to me report 
To decke my song withall, 1 would assay 
Thy name, O soveraine Queene 1 to blazon far away. 

IV. Thy name, O soveraine Queene ! thy realme, and race, 
From this renowmed Prince derived arre. 

Who mightily upheld that royall mace 

Book II — Canto X 28 

\yhich now thou Wat\x. to thco f.irrc 

hrom mighty kings .in<i roriviuerours in wiirrr, 

Thy fathers and great (irandtatlu rs c*f oli!, 

\N hose nt>hle decils aUive the Nurtlu rn sUrre 
Immorull fame f<»r omt hath enrold ; 

As in that old mans K>oke thev \\*Te m order tt>ld. 

V. The land wlneh warlike Unions now ])f>sst sse, 

And therein have their mighty empiie ra\ mJ, 

In antu|ue limes was s*ilvage wildeinesse, 

I'npcopled, imm.mnurd. i^nj)r«»\tl. unjnassd, 

No was il Island then, ne was n pa\s<l 
Amid the wa\es. ne was it sought 
Of mert hanls farre for profits then-in ptawd; 

But was all desolate. an«l of soruf^ thoi ght 

By sea to have been from the I eliu ke mavnlainl hronghl 

VI. Ne (lid It then deserve a name- to have, 

Till that the venturous Manner that way 
Learning his ship from those while rotks to sne, 

U'liieh all along the Southerne sea i oast lav 
'rhrcatning nnheedy wrei ke and rash de/a\. 

For saf(‘ly that same his sea-in.irke made, 

And named it Aihi(»n Jhit later dav. 

Finding in il fit J>ort^ l4>r fishers tr.uie, 

(Ian more the same Irecpient. and further to invad<\ 

vii. But far m l.irid a salvage rial am <lw« It 

Oi hid(ons (/launts, and halfe lu asily men, 

Tli«it never laste<l grar e, n<^r g(^tMlnf'S fell: 

But wild like heastis lurking in loathsome »len, 

And fl\ mg fast ;i,s KjhImic ke through the fin, 

All naked without sham'* or e.ire of i old, 

By hunting and by spruling Iiveden : 

Of stature huge. an«l ek«* of <orage bold. 

I’hat sonnes of nun ama/d their slerrun'-a* to liehold. 

viir. But whence llie% sprong, dt how th< y were Ugint, 
Uneath is to assure; uneath Ut wene 
That monstrous error, vs Inch doth some a sott, 

That Dioclesians fifty daughters shenc 
Into this land by chaunee have driven Ixme; 

Where, rompanmg with feends and filthy SpnghU 


The Faerie Queene 

Through vaine illusion of their lust unclene, 

They brought forth Geaunts, and such dreadful wights 
As far exceeded men in their immeasurd mights. 

IX. They held this land, and with their filthinesse 
Polluted this same gentle soyle long time ; 

That their owne mother loathed their beastlinessc, 
And gan abhorre her broods unkindly crime. 

All were they borne of her owne native slime: 

Until that Brutus, anciently deriv’d 
From roiall stocke of old Assaracs line. 

Driven by fatall error here arriv’d. 

And them of their unjust possession depriv’d. 

X. But ere he had established his throne, 

And spred his empire to the utmost shore. 

He fought great batteils with his salvage fone ; 

In which he them defeated evermore. 

And many Giaunts left on groning flore: 

That well can witness yet unto this day 
Tlie westerne Hogh, besprincled with the gore 
Of mighty Goemot, whome in stout fray 
Corineus conquered, and cruelly did slay. 

XI. And eke that ample Pitt, yet far renownd 
For the large leape which Debon did compell 
Coulin to make, being eight lugs of grownd. 

Into the which retourning backc he fell: 

But those three monstrous stones doe most e.xcell, 
Which that huge sonne of hideous Albion, 

Whose father Hercules in Fraunce did quell, 

Great Godmer threw, in fierce contention. 

At bold Canutus; but of him was slaine anon. 

XII. In meed of these great conquests by them gott, 
Corineus had that Province utmost vsest 

To him assigned for his worthy lott. 

Which of his name and memorable gest 
He called Cornwaile, yet so called best; 

And Dcbons shay re was that is Devonshyrc: 

But Canute had his portion from the rest, 

The which he cald Canutium, for his hyre; 

Now Cantium, which Kent we comenly inquyre. 


Book II — Canto X 

XIII. Thus Bnite this Rcalnie unto his rule sululewt’/, 

And raigned long in groat felioiiv, 

Lov' d of his froonds, aiui of his ftKs csolu'ud: 

He left three sonnos. his faiiums progi ny, 

Borne of fayre Inogene of Italy; 

Mongst whom ho parted his im|H‘nall sUito. 

And Locrine lift ( hiofo Lord of Hiilanv. 

At last ri|H‘ ago had him surre nder late 
His life, and long geuid fortune, unto finall late. 

XIV. Locrine was Uft the s<iveraine I.ord o\ all; 

But Albanart haei ail lhe\ortherne part. 

Which of himselfe Albania he did (all; 

And Ciimher did pos‘^('sse the \\'<sit rne cjuart 
W’hii'h St •verne now* from Logris doth depart: 

And each his j)orti(m peaeealily (*nji»\ed. 

Ne was there outw.nd breath, n(»r grudge in hail, 
Tliat once their (juiet go\ eminent anno\d; 

But each his payncs to others profit still employd. 

XV. Until a nation straunge, with M^age swail, 

Anti (V)rage fierce that all men did affray, 

Wdiich through the woild then swarrnd in every 
And overfltjwd all counlra's far away, 

Like Noyes great flood, with their imjH>rlune swav, 
This land invafled with like violence. 

And thd t]K*ms<l\es through all ih* North display 
Untill tliat Lot rine for his Realmi's deff-in «•, 

Did head against tlieni make and strong mumfiiente. 

XVI. He them cnconntred, a tonfused rout, 

F'oreby the Kivtr that whvlomc was hight 
The ancient Ai)us, where with courage stout 
He them tlcfealed m victorious fight, 

And chaste so fiercely after fearcfull flight, 

'Fliat forst their » hirfeiain, for his safeties sake, 
(Their Chiefetain Humber named was aright,) 

Unto the mighty streame him to Ix-take, 

Where he an end of batteill and of life did make. 

XVII. The king retoumed proud of victory, 

And insolent wox through unwontc*] case, 

That shortly he forgot the jeopardy, 


The Faerie Queene 

Which in his land he lately did appease. 

And fell to vaine voluptuous disease: 

He lov’d faire Ladie Estrild, leudly lov’d, 

Whose wanton pleasures him too much did please, 

That quite his hart from Guendolene remov’d. 

From Guendolene his wife, though alwaies faithful prov’d. 

XVIII. The noble daughter of Corineus 

Would not endure to bee so vile disdaind. 

But, gathering force and corage valorous, 

Encountred him in batteill well ordaind, 

In which him vanquisht'she to fly constraind: 

But she so fast pursewd, that him she tooke 
And threw in bands, where he till death remaind ; 

Als his faire Leman flying through a brooke 

She overhent, nought moved with her piteous looke; 

XIX. But both her selfe, and eke her daughter deare, 
Begotten by her kingly Paramoure, 

The faire Sabrina, almost dead with feare, 

She there attached, far from all succoure; 

The one she slew upon the present floure; 

But the sad virgin, innocent of all, 

Adowne the rolling river she did pourc. 

Which of her name now Severne men do call : 

Such was the end that to disloyall love did fall. 

XX. Then for her sonne, w^hich she to Locrin bore, 

Madan was young, unmeet the rule to sway. 

In her owne hand the crowne she kept in store. 

Till ryper years he raught and stronger stay ; 

During which time her powre she did display 
Through all this Realme, the glory of her sex, 

And first taught men a woman to obay : 

But, when her sonne to mans estate did wex. 

She it surrendred, ne her selfe would lenger vex. 

XXI. Tho Madan raignd, unworthie of his race. 

For with all shame that sacred throne he fild. 

Next Memprise, as unworthy of that place; 

In which being consorted with Manild, 

For thrist of single kingdom him he kild. 

But Ebranck salved both their infamie.s 

Book II — Canto X 


With noble deeiies* and warre\d on Hnmchild 

In Henault, where yet of his victories 

Brave moniments remame, which yet that land envies. 

XXII. An happy man in his hr>l d.nes he 
And haj^py fallier of faire progenv: 

For all so nianv w^^kes ns the ve.irc has. 

So many chilihcn he dul molliplv 

Of which were twentie sonnes, whi< h ilid apjdv 

Their mindes to pr.ivse and » ht*\ . iIidus tJe-svrc' 

Those Germans «lid sululew all (h i many, 

Of whom It hiLihl; hut iri*the end their S\ re 

With foulc repul>e from Kraunce was forted to ret\re. 

XXIII. Which !)lott his st>nne suceeedini' in Ins seat, 

The second Unite, the second both m name 
And eke in m mbluince of his puissannce etcat, 

Ri^hl well renir’d, and did away that hlame 
With recompence <if e\erl.istin^ fame: 

Ifc with his vtctoiir sword first o|>ene<l 
The l>owels of wide Fr.iun< e, .1 forlorne Dame, 

And tan^dit her first how to l>o contpiered ; 

.Since w'hu'h, wit h sondrie s|)oi!es she hath b<‘en r.irisacked. 

XXIV. Ia;t Scaldis tell, and let tell H.ima, 

And let the marsh of Ksthamhrni^es tell. 

What colour were their waters that s.ime dav, 

And all the morirc twixt Idversham and Dell, 

With l)lood r»f Henalois which therein fell. 

Ifow oft that dav did sad Hrunchildis m e 
The greene shield <lydc m fjukirous vermeil 
That not .SVmi/A cutndh it mote seemc to Im-c, 

But rather y scuith signe of s;id rruelire, 

XXV, His sonne, king I^ill, by f.ithers lalxiur long, 

Enjoyd an heritage of lasting jv'acc, 

And built Cairlcill, and built Cairlcrm strong. 

Next Huddibras his re.dmc did not ent rraisc, 

But Uught the land from wcaric wars to cease: 

Whose footsteps Bladud following, in artes 
i:xccld at Athens all the learned prcacc, 

From whence he brought them to these salvage parts, 
And with sweet science molhfidc their stubl>ornc harts. 

290 The Faerie Queene 

XXVI. Ensample of his wondrous faculty, 

Behold the boyling bathes at Cairbadon, 

Which seeth with secret fire eternally. 

And in their entrailles, full of quick Brimston, 
Nourish the flames which they are warmd upon, 

That to their people wealth they forth do well, 

And health to every forreyne nation : 

Yet he at last, contending to excell 

The reach of men, through flight into fond mischief fe 


XXVII. Next him king Leyr in happie peace long raynd. 

But had no issue malp him to succeed. 

But three faire daughters, which were well uptraind 
In all that seemed fitt for kingly seed : 

Mongst whom his realme he equally decreed 
To have divided. Tho, when feeble age 
Nigh to his utmost date he saw proceed, 

He cald his daughters, and with speeches sage 
Inquyrd, which of them most did love her parentage 

xxviii. The eldest, Gonorill, gan to protest 

That she much more than her owne life him lov’d ; 

And Regan greater love to him protest 

Then all the world, when ever it were proov’d; 

But Cordeill said she lov’d him as behoov’d: 

Whose simple answere, wanting colours fayre 
To paint it forth, him to displeasaunce moov’d. 

That in his crown he counted her no hayre. 

But twixt the other twain his kingdom whole did shayre 

XXIX. So wedded th’ one to Maglan king of Scottes, 

And thother to the king of Cambria, 

And twixt them shayrd his realme by equall lottes ; 
But without dowre the wise Cordelia 
Was sent to Aggannip of Celtica. 

Their aged Syre, thus eased of his crowne, 

A private life ledd in Albania 

With Gonorill, long had in great renowne, 

That nought him griev’d to beene from rule deposcc 

XXX. But true it is that, when the oyle is spent. 

The light goes out, and wceke is throwne away ; 

So, when he had resignd his regiment. 


Book II — Canto X 

His daughter gaii despise hw tln>iipirig dav. 

And wearie wax of his conlinuall stav, 

Tho to his daugliter Regan he re|Ki\rd, 

W'ho him at first well used everv w.iv : 

But when of his departure she di spaNid, 

Her Ixiuntie she ahaietf, an<! his eheare einpayrd. 

XXXI. The wretehed g.iu then a\ ise tiui late, 

'Fhat love is not wliere m»^st it is profest ; 

Too truclv trvde \i\ his extreint'st state 
At last. r« ■s<tl\ M likewise to pi*ne llie ri'st, 

Ifo to C'«>rdelia him selh»a<i<jrest , 

Who w'lth eulvre a#T«‘<*lion him meavM. 

As for her .Svre and kmg her seemed ht st ; 

And after all an arm\ stnnig she lea\ d. 

To war on those whu h him hail of his re dme !>rreavM. 

XXXII. So to his (towne she him r<‘siord ag.ime. 

In which he dv<le, math* ripe for cjeatli hv eld, 

And aft( r wold it shouhl to h<‘r rern.iim*, 

Who pe.4ire«ddN' the same loin; lime <h<) weld. 

And all mens h irts in dew ohedieim^ held, 

'I'lll that her .M'^ters children, woxen strong, 

Through proud ambition again>t hi-r reb* hJ, 

And o\(‘r(ommen kept in [uisori long. 

Till wiary of that wrett he«! life her seUe she hong. 

XXXIII. Then gan the bloody brethren both to r.iim-; 

But fierce ( undah shortly to en\\ 

Ills broth(‘r .Morgan, pra kt willi proud ciudaine 
'I'o have a pere m p*irt of sc/\er,ijniv ; 

And kindling coles of c ruell enmitv, 

Ran.d warre, and him in batleill ovi rtlifc w. 

Whence as lie to those- woodv hill* s dal flv, 

Which hight of him (ilamorgan, there him ‘^lew 
Then did he raigne alone, when he none e<)ual! knew. 

XXXIV. His sonne Rivall' his dead rowme did si]pj»ly ; 

In whose sad lime blood did frmn heaven ra>ne. 

Next great (hirgustu'*, then faire ( ac ily, 

In constant prrare iheir kingdomcs did c/)ntavnc. 

After whom I^iigo, and Kinmarkc did raync. 

And Gorbogud, till far in years he grew; 


The Faerie Queene 

Then his ambitious sonnes unto them twayne 
Arraught the rule, and from their father drew ; 

Stout Ferrex and steme Porrex him in prison threw. 

XXXV. But O ! the greedy thirst of royall crowne, 

That knowes no kinred, nor regardes no right, 

Stird Porrex up to put his brother downe; 

Who, unto him assembling forreigne might. 

Made warre on him, and fell him selfe in fight: 

Whose death t’avenge, his mother mercilesse, 

Most mercilesse of women, Wyden hight. 

Her other sonne fast sleeping did oppresse. 

And with most cruell hand him murdred pittilesse. 

XXXVI. Here ended Brutus sacred progeny, 

Which had seven hundred yeares this scepter borne 
With high renowme and great felicity: 

The noble braunch from th' antique stocke was tome 
Through discord, and the roiall throne forlorne. 
Thenceforth this Realme was into factions rent, 
Whilest each of Brutus boasted to be borne, 

That in the end was left no moniment 
Of Brutus, nor of Britons glorie auncient. 

XXXVII. Then up arose a man of matchlcsse might, 

And wondrous wit to menage high affayres. 

Who, stird with pitty of the stressed plight 
Of this sad realme, cut into sondry shayres 
By such as claymd themselves Brutes rightfull hayres, 
Gathered the Princes of the people loose 
To taken counsell of their common cares; 

Who, with his wisedom won, him streight did choose 
Their king, and swore him fealty to win or loose. 

XXXVIII. Then made he head against his enimies, 

And Ymner slew of I^gris miscreate; 

Then Ruddoc and proud Stater, both allycs, 

This of Albany newly nominate. 

And that of Cambry king confirmed late. 

He overthrew through his owne valiaunce; 

Whose countries he redus'd to quiet state. 

And shortly brought to civile govemaunce. 

Now one, which earst were many made through 

Book II — Canto X 


xxxix. Then made he sacred liwcs, wliich s<>me men siiy 
Were unto him rc\ eald m \ i<ion ; 

By which he freed the Tmveilcr.s high- wav. 

The Churches part, and Ploughmans jH»riion, 

Restraining stealtli and strong extortion, 

The gralious Numa cd great lUilanv ; 

For till his da\es, ♦he chu te dominion 
By strength was wieUled without j>ollicv: 

Tlierefore he first wore rrowne of gold f*>r dignity. 

XI.. l)(»nwall<» dyde, (for what mav live for av.^) 

Aiui left two sonnes. t«f jiran K sse prowesse ImiUi, 

That sacked Koine too tlearely did assay, 

The recoin jX'iK e of tlu ir pt ijurctl otli, 

And ransackt (iric<c wel lrvd« , wlu n tluw wire wroth; 
Besides siilijci li d l-'ram e .iiul (icrin.iny, 

Which vt‘l tlu ir praises spr.ike. all 1m* they loth, 

And inly trend >lc at the iiu inorv 
Of Brennus and Ik hnus» kingis of Ihilanv. 

xi.i. Next them did (lurguint. grc .il 11* hniis sonne, 

In rule siicc cede, and ckc* in latlu'r.s praise; 

He Kastc rland suixlewd. and Dcninaikc* wonnr. 

And of them holli did fov and Inlnitc raisr, 

'I’he whicli was dew in his fathers li.iies. 
lie also gave to fiigiti\«s of Spaxne, 

Whom he at sea found w.indring from tlu u w.iies, 

A sealc in Irel.ind safely to reinaMie. 

\\ hic h tlu y sliould hole! of him. as suhjer i to P.riUym . 

XI.II. After him raigned (iuilluluu his ha\re, 

I’he juste St man and trewrst in Ins dau s, 

Who had to wife name Mcrtia the favre, 

A woman w'orthv of irnmortall pr.iise, 

Which for this K<alme found rnanv goodlv lavc^^^, 

And wholesome Statutes to lier hiishand hrought. 

Pier manv' deemd to have Ixrene of the Paws, 

As was Acgcrie that Numa tought: 

nuisc yet of her \y Me rliari lawes l>oth nam’d and thought. 

XLiil. Her sonne .Sisillus after her diel ra\ne; 

And then Kimaruc; and then Danins: 

Next whom Morindus did the crownn susUyne; 

294 The Faerie Queene 

Who, had he not with wrath outrageous 

And cruell rancour dim’d his valorous 

And mightie deedes, should matched have the best 

As well in that same field victorious 

Against the forreine Morands he exprest; 

Yet lives his memorie, though carcas sleepe in rest. 

XLiv. Five sonnes he left, begotten of one wife, 

All which successively by turnes did rayne : 

First Gorboman, a man of vertuous life; 

Next Archigald, who for his proud disdayne 
Deposed was from prmcedome soverayne. 

And pitteous Elidure put in his sted ; 

Who shortly it to him restord agayne, 

Till by his death he it recovered : 

But Peridure and Vigent him disthronized. 

XLV. In wretched prison long he did remaine, 

Till they outraigned had their utmost date. 

And then therein reseized was againe, 

And ruled long with honorable state, 

Till he surrendered Realme and life to fate. 

Then all the sonnes of these five brethren raynd 
By dew successe, and all their Nephewes late ; 
Even thrise eleven descents the crowne retaynd. 
Till aged Hcly by dew heritage it gaynd. 

XLVi. He had two sonnes, whose eldest, called Lud, 

Left of his life most famous memory, 

And endlesse moniments of his great good: 

The ruin’d wals he did reaedifye 
Of Troynovant, gainst force of enimy. 

And built that gate which of his name is hight. 

By which he lyes entombed solemnly. 

He left two sonnes, too young to rule aright, 
Androgeus and Tenantius, pictures of his might. 

XLVii. Whilst they were young, Cassibalane, their Erne, 
Was by the people chosen in their sted. 

Who on him tooke the roiall Diademe, 

. And goodly well long time it governed ; 

Till the prowde Romanes him disquieted. 

And warlike Cjesar, tempted with the name 


Book II — Canto X 

Of this sweet Island never conqueretl. 

And envying the Britons hLizetl fame, 

(O hideous hunger of dominion !) hither nirne. 

XLVili. Vet twisc they were nqnilsed ku ke .tgaine. 

And twise renforst Ixaeke to thrir ships to fiv; 

'Fhc whiles witli hlood thev all the shore did stainc, 
/Vnd the grav Orean \nU\ purple dv: 

Xc had they fot»ting found 411 last, j>erdie, 

Had not Androgeus, false to n.iti\e soyle, 

And envious of Uncles stiveraintie, 

Betrayd his countrey ifnto forreine s|>ovle. 

Nought els but treason from the lust this lan<l did foylc. 

XLix. So by him Ua'sar got the vict<»ry, 

Through great bloodsheti aial in.inv a sad assay, 

In which hiinselfe was chargetl hea\i!v 
Of hardy Nennius, wliom hr yet did s)ay, 

But lost his sword, yet to be set lu* this d.iv. 
Thenceforth this land was iributarie made 
T‘ ambitious Rome, anti tlid their rule oUiy, 

'J’ill Arthur ail lliat recktming tlefravt): 

Vi t oft the Briton kings against them .strt)ngly swayd. 

L. Next him Tenantiiis raigntl ; then Knnb<dinr, 

Wl^at time ih’ t ternall in fit shiv slime 

Knwnmlx’tl was, from wn ichetl Atlams line 
To purge away the guilt of .sinfull < rimr. 

O joyous memone t»f happv lime, 

'Iliat heavcniv giate m» pit ntetnislv displaytl! 

(O tt)o high tjilty for my simple nine!) 

Soone aftt r this the Kt>manes him warraytl ; 

For that tlicir tubule lie refusti tti l<‘t l>e payd. 

LI. Good Claudius, that next was KmjxToiir, 

An army brouglit, and with him baludF fought, 

In which the king was by a Treat hetour 
Disguised slaine, ere any thereof thought: 

Yet ceased not tlu- bltMxJy fight ft»r ought; 

For Arv'iragc his brothers place supplvtlc 

Both in his armes and crownc, antj by that tlraught 

Did drive the Romanes to the weaker sytJe, 

That they tr> peace agrcetl. So all was pacifyde. 

296 The Faerie Queene 

Lii. Wa^ never king more highly magnifide. 

Nor dredd of Romanes, then was Arvirage; 

For which the Emperour to him allide 
His daughter Genuiss’ in marriage : 

Yet shortly he renounst the vassallage 
Of Rome againe, who hither hastly sent 
Vespasian, that with great spoile and rage 
Forwasted all, till Genuissa gent 
Persuaded him to ceasse, and her lord to relent. 

Liii. He dide, and him succeeded Marius, 

Who joyd his dayes in great tranquillity. 

Then Coyll; and after him good Lucius, 

That first received Christianity, 

The sacred pledge of Christes Evangely. 

Yet true it is, that long before that day 
Hither came Joseph of Arimathy, 

Who brought with him the holy grayle, they say, 

And preacht the truth; but since it greatly did decay. 

Liv, This good king shortly without issew dide. 

Whereof great trouble in the kingdome grew, 

That did her selfe in sondry parts divide. 

And with her powre her owne selfe overthrew, 

Whilest Romanes daily did the weake subdew: 

Which seeing, stout Bunduca up arose. 

And taking armes the Britons to her drew; 

With whom she marched streight against her foes, 
And them un wares besides the Severne did enclose. 

LV. There she with them a cruell batteill tryde, 

Not with so good successe as shee deserv’d ; 

By reason that the Captaines on her syde, 

Corrupted by Paulinus, from her swerv’d : 

Yet, such as were through former flight preserv'd 
Gathering againe, her Host she did renew. 

And with fresh corage on the victor servd: 

But being all defeated, save a few, 

Rather then fly, or be captiv’d, her selfe she slew. 

Lvi. O famous moniment of womens prayse I 
Matchable either to Semiramis, 

Whom antique history so high doth rayse. 


Book II — Canto X 

Or to Hypj»iphil\ or to Thomiri'J. 

Her Host two hundred thousand numf^rctl is; 

VMio, whiles j;ood fortune favoun-tl her inijjhi. 
Triumphed oft aj^ainsi her eiu nus; 

And yet» though overcome in haplesse tight. 

Shee triumphed on death, in enemies des|)ighl, 

Lvii. Her reli(|ues Kulgeni ha\ mg gathered. 

Fought with .Severus. and him o\ ei threw ; 

\ et in the ehat e wiis slaine of them that fled, 

So made tliem vit'tors whome he did suhdew. 

Then gan Carausius tiranni/e anew, 

And gainst the Romanes bent their pro|K*r powre; 
But him Allertus treac lartnislN view, 

And tooke on him the loU* uf 1 m|»eroure- 
Nath'lcsse tlie same enjoved but sluut happv howre: 

LVlii. For Aselepiodati’ him oven ame. 

Ami left ingloruMis on the \am|uisli! pla\ne, 

Without or robe or rag to hule his shame: 

Then aflcTwanls lu* in his stead did laigne, 

But shortly was bv ( o\ 11 in batleill slame: 

Who after long debate, sim e Jaj< les tvme, 

W iis of the Unions first (rownd So\erame. 

'l'h<*n gan this Kealme renew her p.^'^s^ d pnint': 

He of his name Coyl* heater built c.f storu* and lime. 

LIX. Which when the Romanes heard, they hither mmiI 
('onstantIu^, a man of nmkle might, 

With whome king (dyll in.idc- an agrerrnent, 

And to him gave for wifi his daughter briglil, 

Fayrc Helena, the fairest living wight; 

Who in all godly tin vses and gooclly praise 
Did far e\c< 11. but was most famou'. lughl 
For skil in Mu^nke of all in her dans. 

As well in eurious msirumenls as (unning laics* 

LX. Of whom he did great C onstantine begett, 

Who afterward was Kmperour of Rome, 

To which whiles absent he his mind did sett, 

Octavius here lept into his r(x>me, 

And It usurped by unrighteous dwmc: 

But he his title juslifide by might, 






The Faerie Queene 

Slaying Traherne, and having overcome 
The Romane legion in dreadfull fight. 

So settled he his kingdome, and confirmd his right: 

But wanting yssew male, his daughter deare 
He gave in wedlocke to Maximian, 

And him with her made of his kingdome heyre. 

Who soone by meanes thereof the Empire wan, 

Till murdred by the freends of Gratian. 

Then gan the Hunnes and Piets invade this land. 
During the raigne of Maxim inian; 

Who dying left none heire them to withstand. 

But that they overran all parts with easy hand. 

The weary Britons, whose war-hable youth. 

Was by Maximian lately ledd away, 

With wretched miseryes and woefull ruth. 

Were to those Pagans made an open pray. 

And daily spectacle of sad decay: 

Whome Romane warres, which now fowr hundred yeares 
And more had wasted, could no whit dismay : 

Til, by consent of Commons and of Peares, 

Thy crowned the second Constantine with joyous teares. 

Who having oft in batteill vanquished 

Those spoylefull Piets, and swarming Easterlings, 

Long time in peace his realme established. 

Yet oft annoyd with sondry bordragings. 

Of neighbour Scots, and forrein Scatterlings 
With which the world did in those dayes abound: 
Which to outbarre, with painefull pyonings 
From sea to sea he heapt a mighty mound. 

Which from Alcluid to Pan welt did that border bownd. 

Three sones he dying left, all under age; 

By meanes whereof their uncle Vortigere 
Usurpt the crowne during their pupillage; 

Which th* Infants tutors gathering to feare^ 

Them closely into Armorick did beare: 

For dread of whom, and for those Piets annoyes. 

He sent to Germany straunge aid to reare; 

From whence eftsoones arrived here three hoyes 
Of Saxons, whom he for his safety imployes. 


Book II — Canto X 

LXV. Two brethren were their ('apitayns, which hight 
Hengist and Horsus. well approv'd in warre, 

And l>oth of them men of rcnowmeti might; 

Who making vantage of their civile jarre. 

And of tliose forreyners which came fiom farre, 

Grew great, and got large portions of land, 

Tliat in the Realnie ere lorur tluy stronger arre 
Tlien they which souglil at lirst their helping hand, 
And \’orliger have foi>t tiu* kingiiome to ul>iuui. 

LX VI. But by the liel|H* of V'oy inu re Ins sonne, 

He is againe unto his rule rcslord; 

And Hengist, seeming sad for that was donne, 
Received is to and new .mord. 

Through his faire ilautihlers iat t‘ an<i flattring worth 
Soonc after winch three hnndnd he slew 

Of British blotkl, aU sitting at Ins lM>ril: 

Whose dolf full muniments wlm list to lew , 

Th* eternall marks of tre;uson mav at Stonheng vew. 

LXVii. By this the sonnes of (‘onstantinr, winch lied, 

Ambrose and Ttber, did npe vcares atta>ne, 

And, here arriving, strongly < hallenged 
The crowne which V«)rti;;er did long detavne: 

Who, flying from his guilt, b\ them v\.is slavne; 

And Hengist eke soon brought to shamefull death. 
Thenceforlh Aurelius j>eaceably ilid ravnr, 

Till that through povson stop|wfl his breath; 

So now enl<»mbecl lies at htrinelieng by the heath. 

Lxviii. After him Tther, which IVndragon bight, 

Succeeding' 'There abruptly it did end, 

Without full point, or other ( isure right ; 

As if the rest some waked han<i ciid reruJ, 

Or th* Author selfc coij)<i not at least attend 
To finish it: that so untimely breach 
The Prince him selfe halfe seemed to offend ; 

Yet secret pleasure did offence empe-arh, 

And wonder of antajuity long stopt his 5|x*ach. 

LXIX. At last, quite ravisht with delight to heare 
The royal! Ofspring of his native land, 

Cryde out; Dearc countrey! O! how dcarely dcare 


The Faerie Queene 

Ought thy remembraunce and perpetual! band 
Be to thy foster Childe, that from thy hand 
Did commun breath and nouriture receave. 

How brutish is it not to understand 
How much to her we owe, that all us gave ; 

That gave unto us all what ever good we have. 

Lxx. But Guyon all this while his booke did read, 

Ne yet has ended; for it was a great 
And ample volume, that doth far excead 
My leasure so long leaves here to repeat: 

It told how first Prometheus did create 
A man, of many parts from beasts deryv’d, 

And then stole fire from heven to animate 
His worke, for which he was by Jove depryv’d 
Of life him selfe, and hart-strings of an Aegle ryv’d. 

Lxxi. That man so made he called Elfe, to weet 
Quick, the first author of all Elfin kynd; 

Who, wandring through the world with wearie feet, 
Did in the gardins of Adonis fynd 
A goodly creature, whom he deemed in mynd 
To be no earthly wight, but either Spright, 

Or Angell, th’ authour of all woman kynd; 

Therefore a Fay he her according hight. 

Of whom all Paeryes spring, and fetch their liijnage right 

Lxxil. Of these a mighty people shortly grew, 

And puissant kinges which all the world warraya, 
And to them selves all Nations did subdew. 

The first and eldest, which that scepter swayd. 

Was Elfin; him all India obayd, 

And all that now America men call : 

Next him was noble Elfinan, who laid 
Cleopolis foundation first of all : 

But Elfiline enclosd it with a golden wall. 

Lxxiil. His sonne was Elfinell, who overcame 
The wicked Gobbelines in bloody field; 

But Elfant was of most renowmed fame. 

Who all of Chris tall did Panthea build : 

Then Elfar, who two brethren gyauntes kild, 

The one of which had two heades, th* other three: 

Book II — Canto X 301 

Then Eliinor, who was in magick skild; 

He built by art upon the glassy See 
A brid;ie of bras, whose sound hevens thunder seeinM 
to lx*e, 

LXXIV. He left three sonncs, the whh h in order raynd, 

And all their Ofvjrin^. in their dew tleseents; 

Even seven hundred Princes, which inainlaynd 
\\ ith inij^htie tlt'etles their Sfindrv i;overnnv nts ; 
lliat were t<»o long their infinite contents 
Here to recortl, nr much inateri.ill; 

\ et should thev lx* most«f4itiious inonmicnts, 

And brave ensamplc, both of niariiall 
And civil rule. tt> kinges aii<l st.iUs ini)>eri.ill 

LXXV. After all these Elficleos did ravne. 

The w'ise h'lficleos, m great \laj<*siic, 

Wlio rnighlilv that scepter did sustii\ ne. 

And with ru h spovles and fam«)us m< tone 
Did high advaunt'c the cr»>wne of Ko*rv: 

He left two Sonnes, of which faire rif( rtni. 

The eldest brother, di<i untimely dv. 

Whose emptie jilace the might r Olx ron 
Doubly supplide, in sp<iusall and doimnion. 

Lxxvi. (ireat was his jxiwer and glorie over all 

Which, him Ix fore, that sa< n d scale did fill, 

'I'hat yet remamrs his wide mc*nn*nall. 

He dying loft the fain st 'Fanac^nill. 

Him to succeede therein, by his last will- 
Eain*r and noliler hveth none this howrc, 

Ne like in grace, ne like m learned skill; 

Therefore they (ilonan rail that glorious flowre: 

Long mayst them, Glorian, live m gli>rv and great powrc ! 

LXXVII. lieguyld thus w ilh delight of novelties, 

And naturall disirc of tountryes state, 

So long they redd in those antirguties, 

I'hat how the time was fled th« y quite forgate; 

Till gentle Alma, seeing it so late, 

Perforce their studies broke, and them fir^ought 
To thinke how supj>er did them long awaile; 

So halfe unwilling from their l:K»c;kes them brought, 

And fayrely feasted as so noble knightes the ought. 


The Faerie Queene 


The enimies of Tempcraunce 
Besiiij'e her dwelling place: 

Prince Arthure them repelles, and fowle 
Maleger doth deface. 

I. What warre so crucl,^ or what siege so sore. 

As that which strong* affections doe apply 
Against the forte of reason evermore. 

To bring the sowle into captivity? 

Their force is fiercer through infirmity 
Of the fraile flesh, relenting to their rage. 

And exercise most bitter tyranny 

Upon the partes brought into their bondage: 

No wretchednesse is like to sinfull vellenage. 

II. But in a body which doth freely yeeld 
His partes to reasons rule obedient. 

And letteth her that ought the scepter weeld. 

All happy peace and goodly government 
Is setled there in sure establishment. 

There Alma, like a virgin Queene most bright, 
Doth florish in all beautic excellent; 

And to her guestes doth bounteous banket dight, 
Attempred goodly well for health and for delight. 

ITT. Early, before the Morne with cremosin ray 
The windowes of bright heaven opened had, 
Through which into the world the dawning day 
Might looke, that maketh every creature glad. 
Uprose Sir Guyon, in bright armour clad, 

And to his purposd journey him prepar’d: 

With him the Palmer eke in habit sad 
Him selfe addrest to that adventure hard: 

So to the rivers syde they both together far’d : 

IV. Where them awaited ready at the ford 
The Ferriman, as Alma had behight. 

With his well-rigged bote: They goe abord 


Book II — Canto XI 

And he eitsoones gan Liunrh his Imrke forthright. 

Ere long they rowed were quite out of sight. 

And fast the land Ixdivnd them tleii awav. 

But let them pas, whiles wind arul wether right 
Doe serve their lurnes: hert* I a while must stay, 

To see a cruell light doen hv the prim e this day. 

V. For all so so(tne as (hi von thenee was gon 
UpKin his voyage with his trust le guvde. 

That wieked bainl of villeins frrsli l>ig.>n 
'Fhat castle to assaile on every ‘'ide, 

And lay strong siege alxiut^it far aiui w\«ie. 

So huge and iniiniti* their numbers wm*. 

That all the lan<i they under them did livdc'; 

So fowle ami uglv, tliat exceeding ar« 

'Ilieir vLsages imprest when thf‘y appriKlied neare. 

VI. 'llicm in twe lve troiqvs th« ir ( apiem dul ilispart, 

An<l round al>out in fittest vteades did plau*, 

Where ea< h might best offend his prop r part, 

And his contrary objei t most, 

As every one seernM meetest in that (a<e. 

Seven of the s.irne against the ('astle gate 
In strong enireiK hments he did <l«)selv jilaee, 

Which with mcessiiunt forte and en«llesM' hate 
They baltred day an<l night, an<l entr.iunee i]nl awatc. 

VII. The other five live sondrv wa\es he s< tt 

Against the live great Bulwarkes of that pyle, 

And unto each a Ihilwarke rhd arrrtl, 

T’ ass;wle with open force or hidden guylc, 

In hope thereof to win vn tonous syxjile. 

They all that < harge flid ferv»*ntlv apjily 
With greerlie rnalif e aiul im|)«irii ne loyle, 

And planted there their huge artillery, 

With which they dayly made most »lrea»lfull l)atl*ry 

VIII. ITic first trmqx! w;is a monstrous rahlernent 

Of fowle misshapen wightes, of whi^h some were 
Headed like Owlcs, with Ixrrkr s unromely Ix-nt; 

Others like Dogs; others like Grvfihons dreare; 

And some had wings, and some ha/J rliwcs to u-arc: 
And every one of tiicm had Lynccs eyes; 

304 The Faerie Queene 

And every one did bow and arrowes beare. 

All those were lawlesse lustes, currupt envyes, 

And covetous aspects, all cruell enimyes. 

IX. Those same against the bulwarke of the Sight 
Did lay strong siege and battailous assault, 

Ne once did yield it respitt day nor night; 

But soone as Titan gan his head exault. 

And soone againe as he his light withhault. 

Their wicked engins they against it bent; 

That is, each thing by which the eyes may fault 
But two then all more ^luge and violent, 

Bcautie and Money, they that Bulwarke sorely rent. 

X. The second Bulwarke was the Hearing sence. 

Gainst which the second troupe assignment makes; 
Deformed creatures, in straunge difference. 

Some having heads like Harts, some like to Snakes, 
Some like wilde Bores late rouzd out of the brakes: 
Slaunderous reproches, and fowle infamies. 
Leasinges, backbytinges, and vain-glorious crakes, 
Bad counsels, prayses, and false flatteries: 

All those against that fort did bend their batteries. 

XI. Likewise that same third Fort, that is the Smell, 

Of that third troupe was cruelly assayd ; 

Whose hideous shapes were like to feendes of hell. 
Some like to houndes, some like to Apes, dismayd 
Some like to Puttockes, all in plumes arayd ; 

All shap’t according their conditions: 

For by those ugly formes weren pourtrayd 
Foolish delights, and fond abusions. 

Which doe that sence besiege with light illusions. 

XII. And that fourth band which cruell battry bent 
Against the fourth Bulwarke, that is the Taste, 

Was, as the rest, a grysie rablement ; 

Some mouth’d like greedy Oystriges; some faste 
Like loathly Toades ; some fashioned in the waste 
Like swine: for so deformd is luxury, 

Surfeat, misdiet, and unthriftie waste, 

Vaine feastes, and ydle superfluity: 

All those this sences Fort assay le incessantly. 

Book II — Canto XI 305 

xi!i. But the fift troupe, most horrible of hew 
And ferce of fort e, is dreadfiill to rejKirt : 

For st)me like Snailes, st>mc did like sp\ tiers Miew, 

And some like u^ly I’nhin" thick and short; 

Cruelly they assii^ed that hit Fort, 

Armed with dartt s of sensuall iVli^ht, 

With stintres of c.t nall hi'^t. and strong effort 
Of fcelini: pleuMires. with which <lav and ni^^ht 
Against lluit siime fift biilwarke thev conlinoed fight. 

XIV. Thus these t\\«‘Ke trt>iHH*s with tirr.idfull huisn*iij!kc 
A gainst that Castle leslles^e sjrge <)id l.i\ . 

And evermore their hitiiMuis (lulinauntt* 

Up<'n the lUibt.irkes t rii< llv did plav. 

That now it to threaten ntaie d«« .iN : 

And eserinore iht ii vMcked C.i]»ii.vvn 
Prt)Nt»ked tlu in the brt .o hi s to as^a\^ 

Soinetirnis uith threats, sonietnm s \Mtii hoj)e id i:avM. 
Which bv tlu* ransack of that peeie tlu > shinild attayn. 

XV. On ih’ otlier svdc*. tlf assn ;:i <1 ( astk s wan! 

'1’lu‘ir stonds dnl mighlilv in.nntaine, 

And many bold repuKi* .uul h.iril 
Atchieveme nt wrought, with jM-nll and with pa\ ne, 
That goodly frame from mine to .snst.uiu': 

And those lwi» brethren <;>auntes did di fend 
The wallcs so stontlv with their slurdu* ma>ne, 

ITiat ne\er entranrue any durst preii-nd. 

But ihev to direfull death their groning ghosU clid si nd. 

XVI. The noble \ irgin, I^ulu* of thc‘ IMaie, 

Was much dismayed with that dicsullul sigfit, 

For never was she in sj» rvill i.kc. 

Till that the* rniicc*, sc*eing her wr)full plight, 

(kin her rccomforl from sr» sad affright, 

OfTring his service, and his dearest life 
For her defence against that (arle to fight, 

Which was their c hiefe and th’ aiithour of that strife: 
She him remcrcicd as the Batrone of her hfc. 

XVII. Eftsoones himsclfe in glitterand arme.s he dight. 
And his well proved weajKms to him bent; 

So, taking courteous cong^, he bchight 


The Faerie Queene 

Those gates to be unbar’d, and forth he went. 

Fayre mote he thee, the prowest and most gent, 

That ever brandished bright steele on hye ! 

Whome soone as that unruly rablement 
With his gay Squyre issewing did espye, 

They reard a most outrageous dreadfull yelling cry: 

XVIII. And therewithal! attonce at him let fly 

Their fluttring arrowes, thicke as flakes of snow. 

And round about him flocke impetuously, 

Like a great water flood, that tombling low 
From the high mountafines, threates to overflow 
With suddein fury all the fertile playne. 

And the sad husbandmans long hope doth throw 
Adowne the streame, and all his vowes make vayne; 
Nor bounds nor banks his headlong ruine may sustaync. 

XIX. Upon his shield their heaped hayle he bore, 

And with his sword disperst the raskall flockes, 

Which fled asonder, and him fell before; 

As withered leaves drop from their dryed stockes, 
When the wroth Western wind does reave their locks: 
And underneath him his courageous steed, 

The fierce Spumador, trode them downe like docks; 
The fierce Spumador, borne of heavenly seed, 

Such as Laomedon of Phoebus race did breed. 

XX. Which suddeine horrour and confused cry 
When as their Capteine heard, in haste he yode 
The cause to weet, and fault to remedy: 

Upon a Tygre swift and fierce he rode, 

That as the winde ran underneath his lode. 

Whiles his long legs nigh raught unto the ground. 

Full large he was of limbe, and shoulders brode. 

But of such subtile substance and unsound. 

That like a ghost he seem’d whose grave-clothes were 
unbound : 

XXI. And in his hand a bended bow was scene, 

And many arrowes under his right side. 

All deadly daungerous, all cruell keene. 

Headed with flint, and fethers bloody dide; 

Such as the Indians in their quivers hide : 

Those could he well direct and streight as line, 

Book 11 — Canto XI 307 

And bid them strike the marke which he had eyde; 

Ne was there s.d\e. ne was there luediune. 

That mole recure their wouiuis, no inly they did line, 

yxii. As pale and wan as ashes was his Uioke, 

His body leane anti meajire as a rake. 

And skin all wither 'd like a tlrvetl ri>okc; 

Thereto as cold ami dier\ as a -vf\;ike. 

That seernd to tremble evermore and tjuake; 

All in a c^invas thm lie was In-di^lit. 

And girded with a belt of twisted brake: 

Upon his hea<l he wme andlelmet li^ht, 

Made of .i dead mans skull, that st emd a Lihaslly sij^ht. 

XXIII. Maleger was his name: and after him 

There billow 'd fast at haiitl lwt» wnk(‘d Haj^s. 

With hoarv lotkes all and Msa^M* unm ; 

Their feel unshod, their bo«lies wr.ipt m r.i^s. 

And both as swift on foot as chast*d SUiiis, 

And yet the one her other legj'e liad lame, 

Which with a slatTe, all full of htle sna^^s. 

She tiid su|)|>ort, and Impotence lirr nainr. 

lint th’ other was Impaiifin e. arm’d with ra^;in}^ fl.trne. 

XXIV. Soone as the ( arle from f ir the IVmrr espidc 
tdistnn^ in armes and w.ulike ornamnu, 

His beast he f» 11> prit kt cu eitlier ss<lf, 

And his mis« hievcms bow foil readie bent, 

With whu h at Inm a t ruell slialt he sent . 

But he was w.ine, and it warded well 
Upon his shield, that it no further went, 

But to the ground the ulle ejuarrell f* 11: 

Then he another anel anoili^r dui t'Xpeil. 

XXV. Which to prevent the Prm< c his mortal! speare 
Soone to him raught, and fierce at him did rule, 

To l>c avenged of that siiot whvlearc; 

But he was not so hanlv to abide 

That bitter siowivl, but turning cjuicke aside 

His light-fool Uast, fled fast away for feare: 

Whom to poursue the Infant after hide 
So fiist as his good Courser could him Iwarc; 

But lal>our lost it was to wccnc approch him ncarc. 

3o 8 The Faerie Queene 

XXVI. For as the winged wind his Tigre fled. 

That vew of eye could scarse him overtake, 

Ne scarse his feet on ground were scene to tred: 
Through hils and dales he speedy way did make, 

Ne hedge ne ditch his readie passage brake; 

And in his flight the villein turn'd his face 
(As wonts the Tartar by the Caspian lake, 

Whenas the Russian him in fight does chace) 

Unto his Tygres taile, and shot at him apace. 

XXVII. Apace he shot, and yet he fled apace. 

Still as the greedy keight nigh to him drew; 

And oftentimes he would relent h^s pace, 

That him his foe more fiercely should poursew: 

But when his uncouth manner he did vew. 

He gan avize to follow him no more, 

But keepe his standing, and his shaftes eschew. 
Untill he quite had spent his perlous store. 

And then assayle him fresh, ere he could shift for mur 

XXVIII. But that lame Hag, still as abroad he strew 
His wicked arrowes, gathered them againe. 

And to him brought, fresh batteill to renew; 

Which he espying cast her to restraine 
From yielding succour to that cursed Swaine, 

And her attaching thought her hands to tye ; 

But soone as him dismounted on the plaine 
That other Hag did far away espye 
Binding her sister, she to him ran hastily ; 

XXJX. And catching hold of him, as downe he lent. 

Him backeward overthrew, and dowme him stavu 
With their rude handes and gryesly graplenient; 

Till that the villein, comming to their ayd. 

Upon him fell, and lode upon him layd: 

Full litle wanted but he had him slaine. 

And of the battell balcfull end had made. 

Had not his gentle Squire beheld his paine. 

And commen to his reskew, ere his bitter bane. 

XXX. So greatest and most glorious thing on ground 
May often need the helpe of weaker hand; 

So feeble is mans state, and life unsound. 

Book 11 — Canto XI 309 

That in assuraunce it may never stand, 

Till It dissk»lved lx* frmn earlhlv UiiuL 
Pn>t)fe l)e thou, Prince, the pn>\%e>i man alyve. 

And noblest lx»rne of all in linlavne land ; 

Vet thee fierce Fortune tlid s*» nranlv drive. 

That, had not j^race thee blest, thou shouhicst not 

xxxi. The Stju\ re arriving fiercely in his annes 

Snatcht fust the <ine, anti then the itther jade, 

His clnefest letts and aulliois of his |j. nines. 

And them perforce withlield \Mth threatnetl biatle, 
la'.iSt that lus I «»rt! tliev should behuule inxade: 

'I he wlules tlu* Trince, prickt with reprtu hful shame. 
As one awakte tuit (d l^nj; slombrmj; sh.ule, 

Re\ i\vn^ tliouj»ht »d i^lorv and of fame, 

Fnited all lus pu\\res to purj;e him selfe from blame. 

XXXII. lake* as a fire, the \\hi<h in hollow e.vve 

H.iili loii)^ bene undeTkt pi an»i down sijpprest. 

With murmurems disda\ne doth inlv rave. 

And fj;rudt;e m so streieht prison to Iw prest, 

At List bie.ikes forili with furious niirt sl. 

And slriv<s to mount unit) lus native srai ; 

All that did e-arst it hinde r and mole si, 

\‘t now d<-\ oures with iLune's .in<l st or* liinj: he af , 

Ariel carries into sme»ake with ra-»* and horror j^real. 

xxxiil. So mi|jhtelv the liriton Prin< »* him ron/el 

Out of his h«*Me, ami bre»ke lus e .i\ live’ baneis, 

Ami as a Ih are'. wh<»rn an;^rv «ijrres have te)U/el, 
H..vm^ off sluikt thrm aneJ < s(apt ihe ir hands, 
Iheomes more fe 11. ami all that him w it hsl^uieJs 
Treaels eieiwn aiifi o\# rtiirowes \ov%’ ha*l the ( arlc 
Alighted from lus I i^re , an<i lus liands 
] )ise'h.irf^ed e)f his bow .in<! <le;olly le, 
do se’izc upon lus foe flatt lym;j e»n the marie. 

XXXIV. Which now him turnd to eiisiivanLi^^e* deare , 

For neither e an he* fly, r or e>ihe*r harrne, 

Hut trust unt<» lus ,stren^?lh and maiihoo^J nuarc, 

Sith now he is far from his memslrous swarrne, 

And of his wcajKms did himst*lfc ditvirme. 

'Hie knight, yet wrothfull for his laic disgrace. 


Ihc fzcrie Uueene 

Fiercely advaunst his valorous right arme. 

And him so sore smott with his yron mace, 

That groveling to the ground he fell, and fild his place. 

XXXV. Wei weened hee that field was then his owne, 

And all his labor brought to happy end; 

When suddein up the villeine overthrowne 
Out of his swowne arose, fresh to contend. 

And gan him selfe to second battaill bend. 

As hurt he had not beene. Thereby there lay 
An huge great stone, which stood upon one end, 

And had not bene removed many a day ; 

Some land-marke seemd to bee, or signe of sundry way : 

xxxvi. The same he snatcht, and with exceeding sway 
Threw at his foe, whe was right well aware 
To shonne the engin of his meant decay ; 

It booted not to thinke that throw to beare. 

But grownd he gave, and lightly lept areare : 

Eft fierce retouming, as a faulcon fayre, 

That once hath failed of her souse full neare. 
Remounts againe into the open ayre. 

And unto better fortune doth her selfe prepayre. 

xxxvii. So brave retouming, with his brandisht blade 
He to the Carle him selfe agayn addrest. 

And strooke at him so sternely, that he made 
An open passage through his riven brest, 

That halfe the steele behind his backe did rest ; 
Which drawing backe, he looked evermore 
When the hart blood should gush out of his chest. 

Or his dead corse should fall upon the flore; 

But his dead corse upon the fiore fell nathemore. 

xxxviii. Ne drop of blood appeared shed to bee. 

All were the wownd so wide and wonderous 
That through his carcas one might playnly see. 

Halfe in amaze with horror hideous, 

And halfe in rage to be deluded thus. 

Again through both the sides he strooke him quight, 
That made his spright to grone full piteous; 

Yet nathemore forth fled his groning spright. 

But freshly, as at first, prepared himself e to fight. 

Book II — Canto XI 31 1 

xxxix. Thereat he smitten was with great affright, 

And trembling terror did his hart apall; 

Ne wist he what to thinke of that same sights 
Ne what to siiy, nc what to doe at all: 

He doubted least it were some mogicall 
Illusion that did beguile his sense, 

Or wandring ghost that w.aited funenill. 

Or aer>’ spirite under false pretence, 

Or hellish feend ravs<l up through divelish science. 

XL. His wonder far excee<le<l reasons reach. 

That he began to doub! his da/elrd sight, 

And oft of error did himselfe apiv^ach: 

Flesh williout blood, a perscui without spright, 
Wounds without hurl, a Ixidv without miglit, 

That could doe harme, yet could not hiirmed Ikc, 
ITiat could not die. vet seemd a nu>rtan wight, 

Ihat was most slrc»ng in m<»sl inhrinitee ; 

Like did he never heare, like did he nr\rr see. 

XLI. Awhile he stoorl in tliis astonishment, 

\(i would he not for all his great dismay 
Give over to effei I Ins first intent, 

And th’ utmost meanes of victors' ass-iv, 

Or Ih' utmost yssew of his owne dM ay. 

His ow’ne gocxl sword M<»rdure, tliat never fayld 
At need till now, he liglitly ihrc w awav , 

And his bright shield that nought him now avayld; 
And with Ills naked hands him fon ibly assayld, 

XLii. Twixt his two mightv armes him up he snatrht, 

And crusht his so against his brest, 

That the disdainfull sowle he thence disfxitcht, 

And th’ ydle breath all utterly rxprest. 

ILo, when he felt him dead, adownc he kesi 
The lumpish unto the sr-ncelessc grownd: 
Adowne he kest it with so wrest, 

That Ixurke ag.une it did alofic relK)wnd, 

And gave against his mother earth a gronrfull sownd. 

XLlil. As when joves harnessc-licaring Bird from hyc 
Stoupes at a flying heron with proud disdaync, 

The stone-dead quarrey falb so forciblyc, 


The Faerie Queene 

That yt rebownds against the lowly playne, 

A second fall redoubling backe agayne. 

Then thought the Prince all peril sure was past, 

And that he victor onely did remayne ; 

No sooner thought, then that the Carle as fast 
Gan heap huge strokes on him, as ere he down was cast. 

XLiv. Nigh his wits end then woxc th’ amazed knight. 

And thought his labour lost, and travell vayne. 
Against this lifclesse shadow so to fight: 

Yet life he saw, and felt his mighty rnayne, 

That, whiles he marveild still, did still him payne; 
Forthy he gan some other waves advize, 

How to take life from that dead-living swayne, 

Whom still he marked freshly to arize 

From th’ earth, and from her womb new spirits to reprize. 

XLV. He then remembered well, that had bene sayd, 

How th’ Earth his mother was, and first him bore; 

She eke, so often as his life decayd, 

Did life with usury to him restore, 

And reysd him up much stronger than betorc, 

So soone as he unto her womhe did fall; 

Therefore to grownd he would him cast no more, 

Ne him committ to grave terrestriall. 

But beare him farre from hope of succour usuall. 

XLVi. Tho up he caught him twixt his puissant hands, 

And having scruzd out of his carrion corse 
The lothfull life, now loosd from sinfull bands, 

Upon his shoulders carried him perforse 
Above three furlongs, taking his full course 
Until he came unto a standing lake; 

Him thereinto he threw without remorse, 

Ne stird, till hope of life did him forsake: 

So end of that Carles dayes and his owne payncs did 

XLVii. Which when those wicked Hags from far did spye. 
Like two mad dogs they ran about the lands. 

And th* one of them with dreadfull yelling cr>^e, 
Throwing away her broken chaines and bands, 

And having quencht her burning fier-brands, 

Book II — -Canto XI 

Hcvilong her sclfe did cast into ih;it lake; 
lUit Impotence NMth her <mne ncjUuII haiuls 
One of Slalet;ers curbed tlaris did lake. 

So r\ v‘d her Ireinhhn^* hart, and w u'U’d end dhl make. 

XI.vill. Thvis nioc alone he rtMU|nern\!r itinaiius- 

Tho. iiiininin^ to his S(jii\re llial kept his .steed, 
Thoui^ht to ha\e nioiintid I' lt Ins (eeble Naints 
Him faiM tin iett». an«l serM.l luu l.'.s ntul. 

I'hrouuh of bliMui whu ]i tit»ni his wounds thtl Me etl, 
’I'hat he ixL’an to faint, ami lilt .t\ 

Hill his m»o<l Ifiin In Ipin-; up with spt rd. 

\\ ith stedfasi haiiil upon his lit.ise did si.i\ . 

And led him t«* the ( asth h\ the ht at( n w.»\ 

X1.IX. U here tnanv ( iroonu s ,ind n s n adv wt je 
do take him from his steed full ltndtt)\ . 

And eke tl.< fa\ test Alma null Inm thue 
\\ ith balmt . an<l w me. an<l t ustU spu t r\ , 

1 o t omfoi t him m his mfiimit\ 

h,ft(‘soojn s sh« e caiisd Inm np 1«> he t oin a\ d, 

Ami of Ins armes desp. It «1 t asjK 
In sumptuteus htiJ slut math him to he l.i\<l: 

And al lla w loh Ins woiiiiti.s wt a <!n ''Sing h\ inm Ma) tl 


The Faerie Queene 


('iiiV'jn, hv Palm#*rs Kovernauncft, 

I'.tssiM^ prrillf's fjrcat. 

I)i>th 'iverthrou the IJijwre of bhs, 

And Arr.'i'^y <lel< at 

I. Now pintles that goodly frame of Tcmpcrauncc 
i'ayrely to rise, and her adorntd h(*d 
'I’o pn( ke of highest pratse forth to advaimce, 
Imrmerly j^rounded and fast settcled 
On firme foundation of true hountylieil : 

And this hrave knight, that for this vertue fip;htcs, 

Now ('omes to point of same perilous sted 
\Vh(Te Pleasure dwelles in sensual! deli<;hts. 

Mon<i,st thousand dangers, and ten thousand Magick 

II. 'I'wo da\ es now in that sea he savlcd has, 

Ne ever land beheld, ne living \Mght, 

No ought save |)erill still as lu‘ tlid pas: 

'I'ho, when appe.ired the third Morrow bright 
I pon the \va\’e'. to spred her triTiiblmg light, 

An hideous rot mg tar away they he.ird, 

'I all their semes Idled with afliight, 

And streight they saw the raging surges reard 

Tp to the skyes, that them of drowning made afTeard. 

III, Said then the Hoteman, “ r.dmer, stiTe aright. 

.•\nd k(*epe an even tourse; for yonder wa\ 

W’e needes must (Ood doe us well aecjuighti) 

'I' IS the (iulfe of (Ireedinesse, they say, 

'riiat det'pe eiigorgeth all this worldes pra\ ; 

Which basing swallowal up ex(essi\el\g 
He soone in \omit up ag.iine doth lay, 

And belehelh feith his super tliiitv, 

'riiat all the seas for le.ire doe seeme away to fly. 

IV. ‘‘ On thother s\ de an hideous Rocke is pight 
Of nughtie Magnos stone, whose t raggic ( lift 
i)e])cii(]ing from on fngh, dreadful! to sight, 


Book II — Canto XII 

Over the waves hn nic-iid armos tloih lift. 

And threatneth dowiu* to throw hw ra^i^nl nft 
On whoso coniclh niuh. vet niuh it d^awt^ 

All pa'^sen^ers, that nt>ne from u ia:i slnti 
h'or, whilrs thev ll\ ('iiilfi\s (hwoiirin;^ l.iwcs. 

They on thl^ rot'k art“ n nt . and m;tu k in lu'lples w.iwe^ 

V. Forwartl the\ p.isst*. .lod sironeK n- iheni r(»\Nes. 
I'nlill tiu'v nmh unto that (iultc .U!\\c. 

\Vhi‘re stn ainr more \i«»U‘nt and ijiet iU u’lowrs 
'rhen he with .dl his puis. min r doth s:i\\i' 

'To siiike Ills oaies. aini in; JiliK dcih diui- 
'i he hollow \(’^srll lhiou;:h tin* thn*.ittnll w.i\c, 

W hit h. pMpine w idc to sw.dlow then. .d\ \ t 

In th’ huuo ahvsst* of hi^ enpultm-' er.i\( 

l)oth Tore at l in in in \ anu*. and w it h e n a! tt i roui i .i\ «*. 

VI. 'l'hi-\ , jiassin;^ l)\ . that j^ris« K mouth did s( i- 
.SiH kini: th(‘ SIMs into his entr,ill(‘s drejx*, 
d'hat seenid more h(*riiltl(‘ then lit 11 to 
Or that dark* dre.idfiill h*»l»* of 'lartaie ste(*p(* 

'Through w hi( h the damn* <1 i*ln)^ts doen * ilt«“a i reepe 
liac ke to tin world, h\{ rs to toriin nt 
liut nought t.dl*‘s into this dir* toll <le» pr 
Ne appro* In t h meh the w \ de d* * < * nt . 

M.i\ haeke retourin . hut is ( oini* min *1 to lie dn*nt. 

\ II. On t hot her side tin \ s.i jn nk-us Koi ke^ 
'riire.'ilnin^ it selfe on lie m to ruinatt . 

( )n w hose shai j> * h t ‘a s tin* rihs of \ e^ h hi oke . 

And shi \ er* d ship >. w hn h lK*t*ne w 1 1 < k***! kit* , 

\d*t still k \s ith ( ark. is* s exanim.itf 

Of .Mi( li. ics h.i\ ire' .ill tln*ir suh-t.iin » sjx-rit 

In w. in ton jo\ <*s .uni lusti s in tempi rate, 

I )id vift erw ai ds maki* si apw i .n k \ n ki nt 
Jkith of tin ir life and lame, for e\« i fowK hli i.l. 

\ III. i*orthy tins hiL'ht I he Ko* ke of \ ile Ki pro* h, 

A d.iuneerons .uni d< ti si.ihle 

d'o whn h rn»r fi-h nor fowle di*l oin e .ippro* h, 

I»ut selling' Mt,iw(*s. with .Sc.imilh's . .uni hare, 
An*l ( V)rmo\ r.iunts, with hird^ nf ra\inoijs i.ue, 

Which still sat waiting on tiiat wastfull clift 

3i 6 The Faerie Queene 

For spoile of wretches, whose unhappy cace, 

After lost credit and consumed thrift, 

At last them driven hath to this despairefull drift. 

IX. The Palmer, seeing them in safetie past, 

Thus saide; “ Behold th* ensamples in our sights 
Of lustfull luxurie and thriftlessse wast. 

What now is left of miserable wightes, 

Which spent their looser daies in leud delightes, 

But shame and sad reproch, here to be red 
By these rent reliques, sneaking their ill plightes? 

Let all that live hereby be counselled 

To shunne Rocke of Reproch, and it as death to dred ! ” 

X. So forth they rowed; and that Ferryman 
With his stiffe oares did brush the sea so strong, 

That the hoare waters from his frigot ran, 

And the light bubles daunced all along, 

Whiles the salt brine out of the billow es sprong. 

At last far off they many Islandes spy 
On every side floting the floodes emong: 

Then said the knight; “ Lo! I the land descry; 
Therefore, old Syre, thy course doe thereunto apply.*’ 

XI. “ That may not bee,” said then the Ferryman, 

“ I^ast wee iinwecting hap to be fordonne; 

For those same Islands, seeming now and than. 

Are not firme land, nor any certein wonne, 

But stragling plots which to and fro doe ronne 
In the wide waters: therefore are they hight 

The Wandring Islands. Therefore doe them shonne; 
For they have ofte drawnc many a wandring wight 
Into most deadly daunger and distressed plight. 

XII. “ Yet well they sceme to him, that farre doth vew, 
Both faire and fruit full, and the grownd dispred 
With grassy greene of delectable hew; 

And the tall trees with leaves appareled 

Are deckt with blossoms dyde in white and red. 

That mote the passengers thereto allure ; 

But whosoever once hath fastened 
His foot thereon, may never it recure. 

But wandreth evermore uncertain and unsure. 


Book II — Canto XII 

XIII. “ As th* Isle of Delos whylome, men report, 

Amid th* Aegxan sea long time did stray, 

Ne made for shipping any certeine port. 

Till that Latona traveiling that way, 

Flying from Junoes wrath and hard assay, 

Of her fayre twins was there delivered, 

Which aften^ards did rule the night and day: 
Thenceforth it firmely was established, 

And for Apolloes temple highly berried. 

XIV. They to him hearken, as l^eseemeth mcete, 

And passe on forward : so their way does ly, 

That one of those same Islands, uhich doe fleet 
In the wide sea, they needes must passen by. 

Which seemd so sweet and pleasaunt to the eye, 

That it would tempt a man to touchen there: 

Upon the banck they sitting did espy 
A daintie damsell dressing of her heare. 

By whom a little skippet floting did appeare. 

XV. She, them espying, loud to them can call, 

Bidding them nigher draw unto the shore, 

For she had cause to busie them withall ; 

And therewith lowdly laught: Hut nathemore 
Would they once turne, but kept on as afore: 

Which when she saw, she left her lockes undight, 

And running to her boat withouten ore, 

From the departing land it launched light, 

And after them did drive with all her power and might. 

XVI. Whom overtaking, she in merry sort 

Them gan to bord, and purpose diversly; 

Now faining dalliauncc and wanton sport. 

Now throwing forth lewd wordcs immodestly; 

Till that the Palmer gan full bitterly 
Her to rebuke for being loose and light; 

Which not abiding, but more scornfully 
Scoffing at him that did her justly witc, 

She tumd her tx)te about, and from them rowed quite. 

xvii. That was the wanton Phaedria, which late 
Did ferry him over the Idle lake: 

Whom nought regarding they kept on their gate. 

3i 8 The Faerie Queene 

And all her vaine allurements did forsake ; 

When them the wary Boteman thus bespake : 

** Here now behove th us well to avyse, 

And of our safety good heede to take ; 

For here before a perlous passage lyes, 

Where many Mermayds haunt making false melodies : 

xviii. “ But by the way there is a great Quicksand, 

And a whirlpoole of hidden jeopardy; 

Therefore, Sir Palmer, keepe an even hand. 

For twixt them both the narrow way doth ly.” 

Scarse had he saide, whin hard at hand they spy 
That quicksand nigh with water covered; 

But by the checked wave they did descry 
It plaine, and by the sea discoloured : 

It called was the quickesand of Unthriftyhed. 

XIX. They, passing by, a goodly Ship did see 
Laden from far with precious merchandize. 

And bravely furnished as ship might bee. 

Which through great disaventure, or mesprize, 

Her selfe had ronne into that hazardize ; 

Whose mariners and merchants with much toyle 
Labour’d in vaine to have recur’d their prize, 

And the rich wares to save from pitteous spoyle; 

But neither toyle nor traveill might her backe recoyle. 

XX. On th' other side they see that perilous Poole, 

Tliat called was the WTiirlcpoole of decay ; 

In which full many had with haplesse doole 
Beene sunckc, of whom no memorie did stay: 

Whose circled waters rapt with whirling sway. 

Like to a restlcsse wheele, still ronning round. 

Did covet, as they passed by that way, 

To draw their bote within the utmost lx)und 

Of his wide Labyrinth, and then to have them dround. 

XXI. But th* heedful Boteman strongly forth did stretch 
His brawnie armes, and all his bodie straine, 

That th* utmost sandy breach they shortly fetch. 
Whiles the dredd daunger does behind remaine. 
Suddeine they see from midst of all the Maine 
The surging waters like a mountaine rise. 


Book II — Canto XII 

And the great sea, puft up with proud disdaine. 

To swell above the measure of his guise. 

As threatning to devoure all that his powre despise. 

XXII. The waves come rolling, and the billowes rorc 
Outragiously, as they enraged were, 

Or wrathfull Neptune did them drive Ixjforc 
His whirling chare t for exceeding fcare ; 

For not one puffe of winde there did appearc, 

That all the three thereat woxe much afrayd, 
Unweeting what such horrour straiinge diil reare. 
Eftsoones they saw an hideous hoast arrayd 
Of huge Sea monsters, such as living sence disinayd: 

xxiil. Most ugly shapes and horrible aspects, 

Such as Dame Nature selfe mote feare to see, 

Or shame that ever should so fowle ilefects 
From her most cunning hand esca|x‘d \yce ; 

All dreadfull pourtraicts of deformitee: 
Spring-headed Hydres; and sea-shouldring Whales; 
Great whirlpooles which all fishes make to flee; 
Bright Scolopendraes arm’d with silver scales; 
Mighty Monoceroses with immeasured Uiyles. 

XXIV. The dreadful Fish that hath deserv’d the name 
Of Death, and like him lookes in dreadfull hew; 

The griesly Wasserman, that makes his game 
The flying ships with swiftnes to pursew: 
llie horrible Sca-satyre, that df>th shew 
His fearcfull face in time of greatest storme; 

Huge Ziffius, whom Mariners eschew 
No Icsse then rockes, (as travellers informe) 

And greedy Rosmarines with visages deforme. 

XXV. All these, and thousand thousands many more, 

And more deformed Monsters thousand fold. 

With dreadfull noise and hollow rombling rore 
Came rushing, in the fomy waves enrold, 

Which seem’d to fly for feare them to behold. 

Nc wonder, if these did the knight appall; 

For all that here on earth we dreadfull hold, 

Be but as bugs to fearen babes vrithall, 

Compared to the creatures in the seas cntrall. 

320 The Faerie Queene 

XXVI. “ Feare nought/’ then saide the Palmer well aviz’d, 
** For these same Monsters are not these in deed. 

But are into these fearefull shapes disguiz’d 
By that same witch, to worke us dreed, 

And draw from on this journey to proceed.” 

Tho lifting up his vertuous staffe on hye. 

He smote the sea, which calmed was with speed, 

And all that dreadfull Armie fast gan flye 
Into great Tethys bosome, where they hidden lye. 

XXVII. Quit from that danger forth their course they kept; 
And as they went they heard a ruefull cry 
Of one that wayld and pittifully wept, 

That through the sea resounding plaints did fly: 

At last they in an Island did espy 
A seemcly Maiden sitting by the shore, 

That with great sorrow and sad agony 
Seemed some great misfortune to deplore, 

And lowd to them for succour called evermore. 

xxviii. Which Guyon hearing streight his Palmer bad 
To store the bote towards that dolefull Mayd, 

That he might know and ease her sorrow sad; 

Who, him avizing better, to him sayd : 

” Faire Sir, be not displeasd if disobayd: 

For ill it were to hearken to her cry. 

For she is inly nothing ill apayd; 

But onely womanish fine forgery. 

Your stubborne hart t’affect with fraile infirmity. 

XXIX. “ To which when she your courage hath inclind 
Through foolish pitty, then her guilefull bayt 
She will embosome deeper in your mind. 

And for your mine at the last awayt.” 

The Knight wiis ruled, and the Boteman stray t 
Held on his course with stayed stedfastnesse, 

Nc ever shroncke, no ever sought to bayt 
His tyred armes for toylcsomc wearinesse. 

But with his oares did sweepe the watry wildemesse. 

XXX. iVnd now they nigh approched to the steel 

Whereas those Mermayds dwelt: it was a still 
And calmy bay, on tli’ one side sheltered 

Book II — Canto XII 


With the brode shadow of an h.oaric hill ; 

On th’other side an high rockc toured still, 

That twixt them l>oth a plciisannt port they made, 
And did like an halfe Theatre fulfill: 

There those five sisters had continu.ill trade, 

And usd to bath themselves in that tleceiptfull shade. 

XXXI. They were faire Liidies, till they fondly st l iv'd 
With th’ Heliconian maides for maystery ; 

Of whom they, over-eomen, wen* deprivM 
Of their proud l>eautie. ami th' one m(>\ity 
Transfornul to fish for fheir l)4)ld siirquedry ; 

But th* uppi r halfe their hew reta\ md .still, 

And their swe et skill in wonted nv lody ; 

Which ever after they to ill, 

T’ allure weake traveillors, wlnun ginu n they did kill. 

XXXII. So now to Ciuyon, as he passed by, 

Their plea.saunt tunes they sweitly thus appl\de: 

“ O thou fay re sonne of gentle haery, 

That art in mightie armes most niagnifyde 
Above all knights that ever balteill tr\de, 

O! turne thy rudder hitherward aNshile 
litre may thy storme-bett vessell saf' ly ryd(‘, is the Port of rest from troublous' tc»\li‘, 

'I'he worldes sweet In from paine and wearisome 

XXXIII. With that the rolling sea, resounding soft, 

In his big base them fitly answ-ered ; 

And on the rocke the waves breaking aloft 
A solemnc Meanc unto them measured ; 

The whik'S sweet Zej)hyrus lowd whisteletl 
His treble, a straunge kinde of harmony, 

Which Guyons senses softly la kel(*d, 

That he the boteman bad row easily, 

And let him hearc some part of their rare melody. 

XXXIV. But him the Palmer from that vanity 
With temperate advice discounselled, 

That they it ptist, and shortly gan descry 
The land to which their course they leveled; 

When suddeinly a grossc fog over-spred 
With his dull vapour all that desert has. 


The Faerie Queene 

And heavens chearefull face enveloped, 

That all things one, and one as nothing was, 

And this great Universe seemd one confused mas. 

XXXV. Thereat they greatly were dismayd, ne wist 
How to direct theyr way in darkenes wide, 

But feard to wander in that wastefull mist. 

For tombling into mischiefe unespide: 

Worse is the daunger hidden then descride. 

Suddeinly an innumerable flight 

Of harmefull fowles about them fluttering cride, 

And with their wickeef wings them ofte did smight, 
And sore annoyed, groping in that griesly night. 

XXX VI. Even all the nation of unfortunate 

And fatall birds about them flocked were, 

Such as by nature men abhorre and hate ; 

The ill-faste Owle, deaths dreadfull messengere; 

The hoars Night-raven, trump of dolefull drere; 

The lether-winged Batt, dayes enimy; 

The ruefull Strich, still waiting on the bere; 

The whistler shrill, that whoso heares doth dy; 

The hellish Harpyes, prophets of sad destiny. 

XXXVII. All those, and all that els does horror breed. 

About them flew, and fild their sayles with feare: 

Yet stayd they not, but forward did proceed, 

Whiles th* one did row, and th' other stifly steare; 

Till that at last the weather gan to cleare, 

And the faire land it sclfe did playnly sheow. 

Said then the Palmer; “ Lol where does appeare 
The sacred soile where all our perilh grow. 

Therfore, Sir knight, your ready arms about you throw.” 

XXXVIII. He hearkned, and his armes about him tooke. 

The whiles the nimble bote so well her sped, 

That with her crooked keele the land she strooke: 
Then forth the noble Guyon sallied, 

And his sage Palmer that him governed ; 

But th’ other by his bote behind did stay. 

They marched fayrly forth, of nought ydred. 

Both firmely armd for every hard assay, 

With constancy and care, gainst daunger and dismay. 


Book II — Canto XII 

xxxix. Ere long they heard an hideous bellowing 
Of many beasts^ that roard outrageously. 

As if that hungers poynt or Venus sting 
Had them enraged with fell surquedry: 

Yet nought they feard, but past on hardily, 

Untill they came in vew of those wilde beasts. 
Who all attonce, gaping full greedily, 

And rearing fercely their upstaring crests, 

Ran tow'ards to devoure those unexpected guests. 

XL. But soone as they approcht with deadly threat, 
The Palmer over them Jiis stafTe upheld, 

His mighty staffe, that could all charmes defeat. 
Eftesoones their stuhhorne corages were queld, 
And high advaunced crests downe meekely feld; 
Instead of fraying, they them selves did feare. 
And trembled as them passing they beheld : 

Such wondrous powre did in that stafTc appcare, 
All monsters to subdew to him that did it heare. 

XLI. Of that same wood it fram’d was cunningly, 

Of which Caduceus whilome was made, 

Caduceus, the rod of Mercury, 

With which he wonts the Stygian realmes invade 
Through ghastly horror and etcrnall shade: 

Til’ infernall feends with it he can asswage, 

And Orcus tame, whome nothing can persuade, 
And rule the P'uryes when they most doe rage. 
Such vertue in his staflfe had eke this J^almcr sage. 

XLii. Thence passing forth, they shortly doe arryve 
Whereas the Bowre of Blisse was situate; 

A place pickt out by choyce of tet alyve. 

That natures worke by art can imitate: 

In which whatever in this worldly state 
Is sweete and pleasing unto living sense. 

Or that may dayntest fantasy aggrate, 

Was poured forth with plentiful! dispencc, 

And made there to abound with lavish affluence. 

XLni. Goodly it was enclosed rownd about. 

As well their entred gucstes to keep within, 

As those unruly beasts to hold without; 

324 The Faerie Queene 

Yet was the fence thereof but weake and thin : 

Nought feard theyr force that fortilage to win. 

But wisedomes powre, and temperaunces might. 

By which the mightiest things efforced bin: 

And eke the gate was wrought of substaunce light, 
Rather for pleasure then for battery or fight. 

XLiv. Yt framed was of precious yvory, 

That seemd a worke of admirable witt; 

And therein all the famous history 
Of Jason and Medx'a was ywTitt; 

Her mighty charmes, hy furious loving fitt; 

His goodly conejuest of the golden fleece, 

His falsed fayth, and love too lightly flitt; 

The wondred Argo, which in venturous pecce 

First through the Euxine seas bore all the llowr of Greece. 

XLV. Ye might have scene the frothy billowes fry 
Under the ship as thorough them she went, 

That seemd the waves were into yvory. 

Or yvory into the waves were sent; 

And otherwhere the snowy sul)staunce sprent 
With vermeil, like the boyes blood therein shed, 

A piteous spectacle did represent; 

And otherwhiles, with gold besprinkeled, 

Yt seemd thenchaunted flame which did Creusa wed. 

XLVi. All this and more might in that goodly gate 
Be red, that ever open stood to all 
Which thither came; but in the Porch there sate 
A comely personage of stature tall, 

And scmblaunce pleasing, more then naturall, 

That travellers to him seemd to entize: 

His looser gaiment to the ground did fall, 

And flew about his heeles in wanton \Nizc, 

Not fitt for speedy pace, or manly exercize. 

XLVii. They in that place him Genius did call: 

Not that celestiall powre, to whom the care 

Of life, and generation of all 

That lives, perteines in charge particulare. 

Who wondrous things concerning our welfare. 

And straunge phantomes doth lett us ofte foresee, 

Book II — Canto XII 325 

And ofte of secret ill bids us beware: 

That is our Selfe, whom though we do not see, 

\ et each doth in him sclfc it w'oll perceive to bee. 

XLViii. Therefore a God him sage Anti(]iiity 

Did wisely make, and good AgdLstes call; 

But this same was to that quite contrary. 

The foe of life, that good envyes to all, 

That secretly doth us procure to fall 

Through guilefull semblants which he makes us see: 

He of this Gardin had the governall, 

And Pleasures porter ^vas devud to Ikt, 

Holding a staffe in hand for mere formaliiee. 

XLix. With diverse flow res he daintily was dec kt, 

And strowed rowmd about; and by his side 
A mighty Mazer Ixiwle of wane was sett, 

As if It had to him bene sacrifide, 

Wherew ith all new-come guests he gratyfale: 

So did he eke Sir (niyon passing by; 

But he his ydle curtcsic dcfide. 

And ovcrthiew his bowle disdainfully, 

And broke his slalTe with whkh he charmed semblants 

L. Thus being entred, they behold arownd 
A large and spacious plaine, on everv side 
Strowed with pleasauns; whose fa\ re grassy gmwnd 
Mantled with greene, tinrl goofily bcMutifide 
With all the ornaments of h'loraes pride, 

Wherewith her mother Art, as halfi- m scornc 
Of nigg<ird Nature, like a pom|)ous bride 
Did decke her, and tof» lavishly adorne. 

When forth from virgin bowre she (om"'» in th* early 

u. Therewith the Heavens alwayes joviall 

la^okte on them lovely, still in stedfast state, 

Nc suffred storme nor frost on them to fall. 

Their tender buds or leaves to violate; 

Nor scorching heat, nor cold intemperate, 

T’ afflict the creatures which therein did dwell; 

But the milde ayre with season moderate 

326 The Faerie Queene 

Gently attempred, and disposd so well, 

That still it breathed forth sweet spirit and holesom 
smell : 

Lii. More sweet and holesome then the pleasaunt hill 
Of Rhodope, on which the Nimphe that bore 
A gyaunt babe herselfe for griefe did kill; 

Or the Thessalian Tempe, where of yore 
Fayre Daphne Phoebus hart with love did gore; 

Or Ida, where the Gods lov’d to repay re. 

When ever they their heavenly bowres forlore; 

Or sweet Parnasse, the h^unt of Muses fayre; 

Or Eden selfe, if ought with Eden mote compayre. 

Liii. Much wondred Guyon at the fayre aspect 
Of that sweet place, yet sufTred no delight 
To sincke into his sence, nor mind affect, 

But passed forth, and lookt still forward right, 
Brydling his will and maystering his might. 

Till that he came unto another gate ; 

No gate, but like one, being goodly dight 

With bowes and braunches, which did broad dilate 

Their clasping armes in wanton wreathings intricate: 

Liv, So fashioned a Porch with rare device. 

Archt over head with an embracing vine. 

Whose bounches hanging downe scemd to entice 
All piissers by to taste their lushious wine, 

And did them selves into their hands incline, 

As freely offering to be gathered ; 

Some deepe empurpled as the Hyacine, 

Some as the Rubine laughing sweetely red, 

Some like faire Emeraudes, not yet well ripened. 

LV. And them amongst some were of burnisht gold. 

So made by art to beautify the rest, 

Which did themselves emongst the leaves enfold. 

As lurking from the vew of covetous guest. 

That the wcake boughes, with so rich load opprest 
Did bow adowne as overburdened. 

Under that Porch a comely dame did rest 
Clad in fayre weedes but fowle disordered, 

And garments loose that seemd unmeet for womanhed. 

32 ? 

Book II — Canto XII 

LVi. In her left hand a Cup of gold she held, 

And with her right the riper fruit did reach, 

Whose sappy liquor, that with fiilnesse sweld, 

Into her cup she scruzd with daintie breach 
Of her fine fingers, without fowle empeach, 

That so faire winepresse made the wine more sweet: 
Thereof she usd to give to drinke to each. 

Whom passing by she happened to meet: 

It was her guise all Straungers goodly so to greet. 

LVii. So she to Guyon offred it to last, 

Who, taking it out of h#r tender bond. 

The cup to ground did violently cast. 

That all in pecces it was broken fond, 

And with the liquor sUiined all the lond: 

Whereat Excesse exceedingly was wroth, 

Yet no'te the same amend, ne yet withstood. 

But suffered him to passe, all were she loth ; 

Who, nought regarding her displeasure, forward goth. 

Lviii. There the most daintie Paradise on ground 
It selfe doth offer to his sober eye, 

In which all pleasures plenteously ahownd, 

And none does others happincssc envye; 

The painted flowrcs, the trees upshooting hye, 

The dales for shade, the hillcs for breathing space, 
The trembling groves, the chrisUill running by, 

And, that which all faire workes doth most aggrace, 
The art which all that wrought appeared in no place, 

Lix. One w'ould have thought, (so cunningly the rude 
And scorned partes were mingled with the fine) 

That nature had for wantonessc ensude 
Art, and that Art at nature did repine; 

So striving each th’ other to undermine. 

Each did the others worke more beautify; 

So differing both in willcs agreed in fine: 

So all agreed, through sweet diversity. 

This Gardin to adorne with all variety. 

LX. And in the midst of all a fountaine stood, 

Of richest substance that on earth might bee, 

So pure and shiny that the silver flood 

328 The Faerie Queene 

Through every channell running one might sec; 

Most goodly it with curious ymageree 

Was overwrought, and shapes of naked boyes. 

Of which some seemd with lively jollitee 
To fly about, playing their wanton toyes, 

Why lest others did them selves embay in liquid joyes. 

LXi. And over all of purest gold was spred 
A trayle of yvie in his native hew; 

For the rich me tall was so coloured, 

That wight who did not well avis’d it vcw 
Would surely deeme it to«bee yvie trew: 

Low his lascivious armes adown did creepe. 

That themselves dipping in the silver dew 
Their fleecy flowres they fcarefully did steepe, 

Which droj)s of Christall seemd for wantones to weep. 

LXii. Infinit streames continually did well 

Out of this fountaine, sweet and faire to see. 

The w'hii'h into an ample laver fell, 

And shortly grew into so great qiiantitie, 

'rhat like a litlc lake it seemd to bee; 

Whose depth exceeded not three cubits hight, 

That through the waves one might the bottom see, 

All pav’d beneath with Jaspar shining bright, 

That seemd the fountaine in that sea did sayle upright. 

LXiii. And all the margent round about was sett 
With shady Laurell trees, thence to defend 
The sunny beames which on the billowcs bett, 

And those which therein bathed mote offend. 

As Guy on hapned by the same to wend, 

Two naked Damzelles he therein espyde, 

Which therein bathing seemed to contend 

And wrestle wantonly, ne car’d to hyde 

Their dainty partes from vew of any which them eyd. 

LXiv. Sometimes the one would lift the other quight 
Above the waters, and then downe againe 
Her plong, as over-maystered by might, 

Where both awhile would covered remaine. 

And each the other from to rise restraine ; 

The whiles their snowy limbes, as through a vele, 

Book II — Canto XII 329 

So through the christall waves appeared plainer 
Then suddeinly both w'ould themselves unhcle. 

And th’ amarous sweet spoiles to greedy eyes rcvele 

Lxv. As that faire Starre, the messenger of mornc. 

His deawy face out of the sea doth reare; 

Or as the Cyprian gotldesse, newly borne 
Of th’ Ocean's fruitfull froth, did first appeare: 

Such seemed they, and so their yellow luMre 
Christalline humor dropjx^d downe apace. 

Whom such when Guyon saw, he drew him ncare, 

And somewhat gan reient his earnest pare; 

His stubbonie brest gan secret pleasaunre lo embrace. 

LX VI. The w anton Maidens, him esp\ ing, stood 
Gazing awhile at his unwonted guise. 

Then th’ one her selfe low durkeil in the llood, 

Abasht that her a straunger did avise; 

Rut thother rather higher did arise, 

And her two lilly paps aloft displayd, 

And all that might his melting hart entysc 
To her delights she unto him bewrayd ; 

The rest hidd underneath him more desirous madt*. 

LXVii. With that the other likew ise up arose, 

And her faire Io( k<‘s, which formerly w<Te bownd 
Up in one knott, she low arhiwne did lf)se, 

Which flowing low' and thi< k her < loth’d arownd, 

And th’ yvorie in golden mantle giiwnd: 

.So that faire spectacle from him was n ft, 

Vet that which reft it n(» lesse fain* wa. fownrl. 

So hidd in lockes and waves from lor)kers theft, 
Nought but her lovely face she for his looking left. 

Lxviii. Withall she laughed, and she bliisht withall, 

Tliat blushing to her laughter gave more grace, 

And laughter to her blushing, as flirl fall 
Now' w'hcn they spyde the knight to sla('l:e his pace 
Them to behold, and in hLs sparkling face 
The secrete signe:> of kinclled lust app)earc, 

Their w'anton meriments they did eni reacc. 

And to him bcckn^d to approch more neare, 

And shew'd him many sights that corage cold could 

330 The Faerie Queene 

Lxix. On which when gazing him the Palmer saw, 

He much rebukt those wandring eyes of his, 

And counseld well him forward thence did draw. 
Now are they come nigh to the Bowre of blis. 

Of her fond favorites so nam’d amis, 

When thus the Palmer: Now, Sir, well avise; 

For here the end of all our traveill is: 

Here wonnes Acrasia, whom we must surprise, 

Els she will slip away, and all our drift despise.” 

LXX. Eftsoones they heard a most melodious sound, 

Of all that mote delight a daintie eare, 

Such as attonce might not on living ground, 

Save in this Paradise, he heard elsewhere: 

Right hard it was for wight which did it heare. 

To read what manner musicke that m(;te bee; 

For all that pleasing is to living eare 
Was there consorted in one harmonee ; 

Birdes, voices, instruments, windes, waters, all agree 

LXXi. The joyous birdes, shrouded in chearefull shade 
Their notes unto the voice attempred sweet; 

Th’ Angelicall soft trembling voyces made 
To th’ instruments divine respondcnce meet; 

The silver sounding instruments did meet 
With the base murmure of the waters fall; 

The waters fall with difference discreet, 

Now soft, now loud, unto the wind did call; 

The gentle warbling wind low answered to all. 

LXXli. There, wdience that Musick seemed heard to bee, 

Was the faire Witch her selfe now solacing 
With a new I/)ver, whom, through sorceree 
And witchcraft, she from farre did thither bring: 
There she had him now laid aslombering 
In secret shade after long wanton joyes ; 

Whilst round about them pleasauntly did sing 
Many faire Ladies and Lascivious boyes. 

That ever mixt their song with light licentious toyes, 

LXX1II. And all that while right over him she hong 
With her false eyes fast fixed in his sight, 

As seeking medicine whence she w'as stong. 


Book II — Canto XII 

Or greedily depasturing delight ; 

And oft inclining downe, with kisses light 
For feare of waking him, hLs lips bedewd, 

And through his humid eyes did sucke his spright, 
Quite molten into lust and plea^^urc Icwil ; 

herewith she sighed soft, as if his case she rcwd. 

Lxxiv. The whiles some one did ehaunt tliis lovely lay: 

Ah! see, whoso fayre thing doest fainc to see, 

In springing flowre the image of thv dav. 

Ah! see the Virgin Rose, how swieilv slice 
Doth first peepc foortDwilh baslifull modestee, 

That fairer sccmes the losse ve see her mav. 

Lo! sec soone after how more bold and free 
Her bared bosome she doth broad disjd.iy; 

Lo ! see soone after how she fades and falls awav. 

Lxxv. So passeth, in the passing of a day, 

Of morUvll life the Icafe, the hud, tlu‘ flowre; 

Ne more doth florish after first decay, 

That earst was sought to deck both bed and bowre 
Of many a lady’, and many a Paramowre. 

Gather therefore the Rose whilest yet is prime. 

For soone comes age that will her pri<le deflowre; 
Gather the Rose of love whilest ye t is time, 

Whilest loving thou mayst loved lx* with equall crime 

Lxxvi. He ceast; and then gan all the quire of birdes 
Their diverse notes t’attune unto his lay, 

As in approvaiince of his pleasing worries , 

The constant pay re heard all that he did say. 

Yet sw^arved not, but kejit their forward way 
Through many covert groves anrl thirkels close, 

In which they cn*eping rlid at hist display 
That wanton Lady with her lover lose, 

Whose slcepie head she in her lap did soft dispose. 

Lxxvii. Upon a Ixd of Roses she wras layd, 

As faint through heat, or dight tr) pi asant sin; 

And was arayd, or rather dtsarayd, 

All in a vcle of silke and silver thin, 

Tliat hid no whit her alabhastcr skin. 

But rather shewd more white, if more might l^c: 

More subtile web Arachne cannot spin ; 

332 The Faerie Queene 

Nor the fine nets, which oft wc woven see 
Of scorched deaw, do not in th’ ay re more lightly flee. 

Lxxviii. Her snowy brest was bare to ready spoyle 

Of hungry eies, which n’ote therewith be fild ; 

And yet, through languour of her late sweet toyle. 

Few drops, more cleare then Nectar, forth distild. 
That like pure Orient perles adowne it trild ; 

And her faire eyes, sweet smyling in delight, 
Moystened their fierie beames, with which she thrild 
Fraile harts, yet quenched not; like starry light, 
Which, sparckling on the silent waves, does seeme more 

Lxxix. The young man, sleeping by her, seemd to be 
Some goodly swayne of honorable place, 

That certes it great pitty was to see 
Him his nobility so fowle deface : 

A sweet regard and amiable grace, 

Mixed with manly sterncssc, did appeare, 

Yet sleeping, in his well proportiond face; 

And on his tender lips the downy heare 

Did now but freshly spring, and silken blossoms bcaro. 

Lxxx. His warlike Armes, the ydle instruments 
Of sleeping praise, were hong upon a tree ; 

And his brave shield, full of old moniments, 

Was fowly ras’t, that none the signes might sec: 

Nc for them ne for honour cared hee, 

Nc ought that did to his advauncement tend; 

But in lewd loves, and wastfull luxuree, 

His dayes, his goods, his bodie, he did spend: 

O horrible enchantment, that him so did blend I 

LXXXI. The noble Elfe and carefull Palmer drew 

So nigh them, minding nought but lustfull game. 

That suddein forth they on them rusht, and threw 
A subtile net, which only for that same 
The skilfull Palmer formally did frame: 

So held them under fast ; the whiles the rest 
Fled all away for feare of fowler shame. 

The faire Knehauntresse, so unwares opprest, 

Tryde all her arts and all her sleights thence out to 


Book II — Canto XII 

Lxxxii. And eke her lover strove, but all in vaine; 

For that same net so cunningly was wound, 

That neither guile nor force might it distraine. 

They tooke them both, and both them strongly bound 
In captives bandes, which there they readie found: 

But her in chaines of adamant he tyde; 

For nothing else might keepe her safe and sound: 

But Verdant (so he hight) he soone untyde. 

And counsell sage in steed thereof to him applyde. 

Lxxxiii. But all those pleasaunt bowres, an»l Pallace brave, 
Guyon broke downc with rigour pittilcsse; 

Ne ought their goodly workmanship might save 
Them from the tempest of his wrathfiilnesse, 

But that their blisse he turn’d to balcfulnesse. 

Their groves he feld ; their gardins did deface ; 

Their arbers spoyle ; their Cabinets suppresse ; 

Their banket houses burne; their buildings race; 

And, of the fayrest late, now made the fowlest place. 

Lxxxiv. Then led they her away, and eke that knight 
They with them led, b()th sorrowfull and sad. 

The way they came, the Siime retourn'd they right, 
Till they arrived where they lately had 
Charm’d those wild-beasts that rag’d with furie mad; 
Which, now awaking, fierce at them gan fiy, 

As in their mistresse rcskew whom they lad; 

But them the Palmer soone did pacify. 

Tnen Guyon askt, what meant those lx*astes which 
there did ly ? 

Lxxxv. Sayd he; ** These seeming beasts arc men indeed, 
Whom this Enchauntress hath transformed thus; 
Whylome her lovers, which her lustes did feed, 

Now turned into figures hideous, 

According to their mindes like monstruous.” 

“ Sad end,” (quoth he) ” of life intemperate. 

And moumeful meed of joyes delicious! 

But, Palmer, if it mote thee so aggrate, 

Let them returned be unto their former state.” 

Lxxxvi. Streight way he with his vertuous staffe them strooke, 
And streight of beastes they comely men became ; 



The Faerie Queene 

Yet being men they did unmanly looke, 

And stared ghastly; some for inward shame. 

And some for wrath to see their captive Dame : 

But one above the rest in speciall 
'rhat had an hog beene late, hight Grylle by name, 
Repyned greatly and did him miscall 
That had from hoggish forme him brought to natural!. 

Lxxxvii. Saide Guyon ; “ See the mind of beastly man. 

That hath so soone forgot the excellence 
Of his creation, when he life l)egan, 

That now he chooseth with vile difference 
To be a beast, and lacke intelligence! ” 

To whom the Palmer thus: “ The donghill kinde 
Delightes in filth and fowle incontinence: 

Let Gryll be Gryll, and have his hoggish minde; 

But let us hence depart whilcst wether serves and 



I. It falls me here to write of Chastity, 

The fayrest vertiie, far above the rest: 

For which what needes me fetch from Fae ry 
Forreine ensamples it to hflve exprest? 

Sith it is shrined in my Soveraines hrest, 

And formd so lively in each perfect part, 

That to all Eadies, which have it pnifest, 

Need but behold the pourtraict of her hart; 

If pourtrayd it mi^lit bee by any livin|); art. 

II. But living art may not least part expresse, 

Nor life-resembling pencill it can paynt: 

All were it Zeuxis or Praxiteles, 

His daedale hand would faile and greatly faynt, 

And her perfections with his error taynt: 

Ne Poets witt, that pas.seth Painter farre 
In picturing the parts of beauty davnl, 

So hard a workemanship adventure rlarn‘, 

For feare, through want of words» her excellence to 

III. How then shall I, Apprentice to the skill 
That whilome in divincst wits did rayne, 

Presume so high to stretch mine humble quill? 

Yet now my lucklcsse lott doth me const rayne 
Hereto perforce, l^ut, () dredd Soverayne! 

Thus far-forth pardon, sith that choicest witt 
Ginnot your glorious pourtraict figure playne, 

That I in colon rd showes may shadow itt. 

And antique praises unto present persons fitt. 

IV. But if in living colours, and right hew, 

Thy selfe thou covet to sec pictured, 

Who can it doe more lively, or more trew, 

Then that sweete \'erse, with NecUr sprinckclcd. 


336 The Faerie Queene 

In which a gracious servaunt pictured 
His Cynthia, his heavens fayrest light? 

That with his melting sweetnes ravished. 

And with the wonder of her beames bright. 

My sences lulled are in slomber of delight. 

V. But let that same delitious Poet lend 
A little leave unto a rusticke Muse 
To sing his mistresse prayse; and let him mend. 
If ought amis her liking may abuse : 

Ne let his fayrest Cynthia refuse 
In mirrours more then one her selfe to sec; 

But either Gloriana let her chuse. 

Or in Belphncbe fashioned to bee; 

In th’ one her rule, in th’ other her rare chastitee. 

Book III — Canto 1 



Guyon ^ncountreth Hntomart : 

Fa\Te FlonineU is chaceil . 

Diiessacii tr uiies aiul Maleca^v- 
taes champions are tJcfaccd 

I. The famous l^riton Prince and Kacry knight. 

After long waves and pciilous panics endur’d, 

Having their \vear\* limhes to perfect plight 
Restord, and sor>^ wounds right well reeur'd, 

Of the faire Alma greallv were prfieurM 

To make there lenger sojourne ami abode; 

But when thereto they might not he allur'd, 

From seeking praise and deeds of armes ahrotle, 

They courteous conge tookc, and ftirth together yodc. 

II. But the captivVl Acrasia he sent, 

Because of traveill lonir. a nigher way, 

With a strong gard, all reskew' to prevent, 

And her to haery court safe to convay ; 

That her for witnes of hts hard assay 
Unto his Faery Queenc he might present: 

But he him selfe belooke another way, 

To make more triall of his hardimeiil, 

And seek adventures as he with Pnm e Arthure went. 

HI. Uong so they traveiled through waslefull wayes, 
Where daungers dwelt, and penis most tlid woiine, 

To hunt for glory and renow nied prayse. 

Full many Uountreyes they did overronne, 

From the uprising to the setting Siinne, 

And many hard adventures did atchieve; 

Of all the which they honour ever wonne, 

Seeking the weake oppressed to relieve, 

And to recover right for such as wrong did grieve. 

IV. At last, as through an open plaine they yode, 

They spide a knight that towards pricktxl fay re; 

And him beside an aged Squire there rode. 

338 The Faerie Queene 

That seemd to couch under his shield three-square. 

As if that age badd him that burden spare, 

And yield it those that stouter could it wield. 

He them espying gan him selfe prepare. 

And on his arme addresse his goodly shield 
That bore a Lion passant in a golden field. 

V. Which seeing, good Sir Guyon deare besought 
The Prince of grace to let him ronne that turne. 

He grauntcd : then the F'aery quickly raught 
His poynant speare, and sharply gan to spume 
His fomy steed, whose fery feete did burne 
The verdant gras as he thereon did tread; 

Ne did the other backe his foote returne. 

But fiercely forward came withouten dread. 

And bent his dreadful speare against the others head. 

VI. They beene ymett, and both theyr points arriv’d; 

But Guyon drove so furious and fell, 

That seemd both shield and plate it would have riv'd; 
Nathelesse it bore his foe not from his sell, 

But made him stagger, as he were not well: 

But Guyon selfe, ere well he was aware. 

Nigh a speares length behind his crouper fell; 

Vet in his fall so well him selfe he bare, 

That mischievous mischaunce his life and limbs did spare. 

VII. Great shame and sorrow of that fall he tooke; 

For never yet, sith warlike armes he bore 

And shivering speare in bloody field first shooke. 

He fownd him selfe dishonored so sore. 

Ah ! gentlest knight, that ever armor bore, 

I^t not thee grieve dismounted to have beene, 

And brought to grownd that never wast before; 

For not thy fault, but secret pnwre unseone: 

That speare enchaunted was which layd thee on the grccne. 

viir. But weenedst thou what wight thee overthrew. 

Much greater griefe and shamefuller regrett 
For thy hard fortune then thou wouldst renew. 

That of a single damzell thou wert mett 
On equall plaine, and there so hard besett: 

Even the famous Britomart it was, 

Book III — Canto I 3 

Whom straunpe adventure did from Britayne sett 
To seeke her lover (love far souj^ht alas!) ' 

Whose image shee had scene in Venus looking glas. 

IX. Full of disdainefiill wrath he fierce uprose 
For to revenge that fowle reprochefull shame. 

And snatching his bright sword l>egan to close 
W’ith her on foot, and stoullv forvsanl came: 

Dye rather wo il 1 he then endure that s;ime. 

Which when his Palmer siiw, he gan to feare 
His tow’ard perill, and untoward blame, 

Which by that new renccRinter he should reare; 

For death sate on the point of that enchaimted speare 

X. And liasting towards him gan fay re perswade 
Not to provoke misfortune, nor to w<‘ene 

Ilis speares default to mend wiili cruell blade; 

For by his mightie Science he had scene 
The secrete vertue of that weajion kecrK*. 

That mortall puissaunce mote not withstoml. 

Nothing on earth mote ahvaies happv beene: 

Great hazard were it. and a<l venture fond, 

To loose long gotten honour with om* c\ ill bond. 

XI. By such good meancs he him discounselled 
Prom prosecuting his revenging rage: 

An<l eke the IVinee like treaty handclerl, 

His wrathfull will with reason to aswage; 

And laid the blame, not to his carriage, 

But to his starting steed that sw.'ir\ d asyde, 

And to the ill purvt'v.iunce of his page. 

That had his furnitures not firm< ly tvde. 

So is his angry cor.ige fayrly pacifyrle. 

XII. Thus reconcilement was betweene them knitt, 

Through goodly temperaunce and affection chaste; 
And either vowd with all their power and wilt 
To let not others honour he flefaste 
Of friend or foe, who ever it emliastc; 

Ne armes to bcare against the others syrlc: 

In which accord the P.incc was also plastc, 

And with that golden chaine of cont ord tyrie. 

So goodly all agreed they forth yfere did ryde. 

340 The Faerie Queene 

XIII. 01 goodly usage of those antique tymes, 

In which the sword was servaunt unto right; 

When not for malice and contentious crymes, 

But all for prayse, and proofe of manly might, 

The martial! brood accustomed to fight: 

Then honour was the meed of victory, 

And yet the vanquished had no despight. 

I^t later age that noble use envy, 

Vyle rancor to avoid and cruel surquedry. 

XIV. Long they thus travelled in friendly wise, 

Through countreyes waste, and eke well edifyde, 

Seeking adventures hard, to exercise 

Their puissaunce, whylome full dernly tryde. 

At length they came into a forest wyde. 

Whose hideous horror and sad trembling sownd. 

Full griesly seemd: Therein they long did ryde, 

Yet tract of living creature none they fownd, 

Save Beares, Lyons, and Buis, which romed them arownd. 

XV. All suddenly out of the thickest brush. 

Upon a milkwhite Palfrey all alone, 

A goodly Lady did foreby them rush. 

Whose face did seeme as cleare as Christall stone, 

And eke, through feare, as white as whales bone; 

Her garments all were wrought of beaten gold, 

And all her steed with tinsell trappings shone, 

Which fledd so fast that nothing mote him hold. 

And scarse them leasure gave her passing to behold. 

XVI. Still as she fiedd her eye she backward threw, 

As fearing evill that poursewd her fast; 

And her faire yellow locks behind her flew, 

Loosely disperst with puff of every blast: 

All os a blazing starre doth far re outcast 
His hearie beames, and flaming lockes dispredd. 

At sight whereof the people stand aghast ; 

But the sage wisard telles, as he has redd, 

That it importunes death and doleful! drer>'hedd. 

XVII. So as they gazed after her a wli^de, 

Lol where a griesly foster forth did rush, 

Breathing out beastly lust her to defyle: 

34 « 

Book III — Canto I 

His tyreling Jade he fiersly forth did push 
Through thicke and thin, both over banck and bush. 
In hope her to attaine by hookc or crooke, 

That from his gor>' sydes the blood did gush. 

Large were his limbes, and terrible his looke, 

And in his clownish hand a sharp bore speare he shookc. 

XVIII. Which outrage when those gentle knights did see, 

Full of great envy and fell gealosy 

They stayd not to avise who first should lx?e, 

But all spurd after, fast as they mote fly, 

To reskew her from shamefull villany. 

The Prince and Guyon equally bylive 
Her selfe pursewd, in hope to win thereby 
Most goodly mcede, the fairest Dame alive: 

But after the foule foster Timias did strive. 

XIX. The whiles fairc Britomart, whose constant mind 
Would not so lightly follow beauties chace, 

Ne reckt of Ladies Love, did stay l>ehynd, 

And them away ted there a ccrtainc space, 

To weet if they would tume backe to that place; 

But when she saw them gone she forward went, 

As lay her journey, through that pcrlous Pace, 

With stedfast corage and stout hardiment: 

Ne evil thing she feard, ne evill thing she nunt. 

XX. At last, as nigh out of the wood she came, 

A stately Castle far away she sf)yde, 

To which her steps directly she did frame. 

That Castle was most goodly edifyde, 

And plaste for pleasure nigh that forrest syde: 

But faire before the gate a spatious plaync, 

Mantled with greenc, it selfe did spredrlen wyde, 

On which she saw six knights, that did darraync 
Fiers battaill against one with cruell might and maync. 

XXI. Mainely they all attonce upon him laid, 

And sore beset on every side arownd, 

That nigh he breathlesse grew, yet nought dismaid, 

Ne ever to them yielded foot of grownd, 

All had he lost much blood through many a wownd, 
But stoutly dealt his blowes, and every way. 


The Faerie Queene 

To which he turned in his wrathfull stownd, 

Made them recoile, and fly from drcdd decay. 

That none of all the six before him durst assay. 

xxir. Like dastard Curres that, having at a bay 
The salvage beast ernbost in wearie chace, 

Dare not adventure on the stubhome pray, 

Ne byte before, but romc from place to place 
To get a snatch when turned is his face. 

In such distresse and doubtfull jeopardy 
When liritomart him saw, she ran apace 
Unto his rcskew, and with earnest cry 
Badd those same six forbeare that single enimy. 

XXIII. But to her cry they list not Icnden eare, 

Ne ought the more their mightie strokes surceasse. 
But gathering him rownd about more neare, 

Their direfull rancour rather did cncreasse; 

Till that she rushing through the thickest preasse 
Perforce disparted their compacted gyre. 

And soone compeld to hearken unto peace. 

^J'ho gan she myldly of them to inqiiyre 

The cause of their dissention and outrageous yre. 

XXIV. Whereto tliat single knight did answere frame: 

“ These six would me enforce by oddes of might 
To chaungc my liefe, and love another Dame; 

That death me liefer were then such despight. 

So unto wrong to yield my wrested right: 

For I love one, the truest one on grownd, 

Ne list me chaunge; she th" Errant Damzcll hight; 
For whose dcare sake full many a bitter stownd 
I have endurd, and tasted many a bloody wownd.’' 

XXV. “ Certes,” (said she) “ then beene ye sixe to blame. 
To wecnc your wrong by force to justify; 

For knight to leave his Liidy were great shame 
That faithfull is, and better were to dy. 

All losse is lessc, and lesse the infamy, 

Then losse of love to him that loves but one: 

Ne may love be compeld by maistery ; 

For soone as maistery comes sweet Love anone 
Taketh his nimble winges, and soone away is gone.’’ 

Book III — Canto I 343 

XXVI. Then spake one of those six: “ Tliere dwellcth here 
Within this castle wall a Ladv fayre, 

Whose sovcrainc Ix'autie hath no living pore; 

Thereto so bounteous and so dolx)naNTe, 

That never any mote with her eompavre : 

She hath ordaind tW\^ law, which we approve, 

That every knight which doth this way repavre, 

In case he have no I^uly nor no love. 

Shall doe unto her service, ne\'er li> remove: 

xxvii. “ But if he have a I^dy or a Une, 

Then must he her forppoe with fowle defame, 

Or els with us by dint of sword approve, 

Tliat she is fairer then our fairest Dame; 

As did this knight, before ye hither came.’* 

“ Perdy,’* (said Britomart) “ the choise is hard; 

But what reward had he that ovt rc ame? ” 

“ He should advuunccd lx‘e to high regard," 

(Said they) ** and have our Ladies love for his reward. 

XXVIII. ** Therefore aread, Sir, if thou have a love." 

“ Love hath I .sure," (ipioth she) “ but Lady none 
Yet will I not fro mine own love remove, 

Nc to your I^idy will I service done. 

But wreakc your wronges wrought to this knight alone, 
And prove his cause." With that, her mortall s[)eare 
She mightily aventred towards one, 

And clowne him smot ere well aware he weare; 

Then to the next .she rode, and downe the next did 
be are, 

xxix. Ne did she sUiy till thn*e on ground she lavd 

That none of them himselfe could reare againe: 

The fourth was by that other knight dismayd, 

All w^erc he wearie of his former pame; 

That now there do l)ut two of six rc inairie, 

Which two did yield lx*forc she did them srnight. 

** Ah ! ’* (said she then) “ now may y<* all see plaine, 
That truth is strong, and trew love most of might. 
That for his trusty servaunts fkiih so strongly fight.*’ 

XXX. “ Too well wc see,” (saidc they) ” and prove too well 
Our faulty weakenes, and your matchlessc might: 
Forthy, faire Sir, yours be the DamozcII, 


The Faerie Queene 

Which by her owne law to your lot doth light, 

And we your liegemen faith unto you plight/' 

So underneath her feet their swords they mard. 

And, after, her besought, well as they might, 

To enter in and reape the dew reward. 

She graunted; and then in they all together far'd. 

XXXI. Long were it to describe the goodly frame. 

And stately port of Gistle Joyeous, 

(For so that Castle hight by commun name) 

Where they were entertaynd with courteous 

And comely glee of mafty gratious 

Faire Ladies, and of many a gentle knight. 

Who, through a Chamber long and spacious, 

Eftsoones them brought unto their I^ies sight. 

That of them deeped was the Lady of Delight. 

XXXII. But for to tell the sumptuous aray 

Of that great chamber should be labour lost; 

For living wit, I weene, cannot display 
The roiall riches and exceeding cost 
Of every pillour and of every post. 

Which all of purest bullion framed were. 

And with great perles and pretious stones embost; 

That the bright glister of their beames cleare 

Did sparckle forth great light, and glorious did appeare. 

XXXIII. These stranger knights, through passing, forth were led 
Into an inner rowme, whose royaltee 
And rich purveyance might uneath be red ; 

Mote Princes place be seemc so deckt to bee. 

Which stately manner whenas they did see. 

The image of superfluous riotize. 

Exceeding much the state of meane degree, 

They greatly wondred whence so sumptuous guize 
Might be maintaynd, and each gan diversely devize. 

xxxiv. The wals were round about appareiled 

With costly clothes of Arras and of Toure; 

In which with cunning hand was pourtrahed 
The love of Venus and her Paramoure, 

The fay re Adonis, turned to a flowre ; 

A worke of rare device and wondrous wit. 


Book III — Canto I 

First did ft shew the bitter bale full stowre. 

Which her essayd with many a fervent fit, 

When first her tender hart was with his beautie smit. 

XXXV. Then with what sleights and sweet allurements she 
Entyst the Boy, as well that art she knew, 

And wooed him her Paramoure to bee; 

Now making girlonds of each flowre tliat grew, 

To crowne his golden lockes with honour dew ; 

Now leading him into a secret shade 

From his Beaup>eres, and from bright heavens vew, 

Where him to sleepe slie gently would perswade, 

Or bathe him in a fountaine by some i t>vert glade: 

xxxvi. And whilst he slept she over him would spred 
Her mantle, colour’d like the sUiiry skyes, 

And her soft arme lay underneath his hed, 

And with ambrosiall kisses bathe his eves ; 

And whilst he bath’d with her two crafty spyes 
She secretly would search each dainlie lim, 

And throw into the well sweet Kosemaryes, 

And fragrant violets, and Paunecs trim ; 

And ever with sweet Nectar she did sprinkle him. 

XXXVII, So did she steale his heedelcssc hart away, 

And joyd his love in secret unespyde: 

But for she saw him Ijcnt to cruell play, 

To hunt the salvage beast in forrest wyde, 

Dreadful! of daungcr that mote him Ix-tyde, 

She oft and oft adviz'd him to refraine 

From chase of greater beastes, whose brutish pryde 

Mote breede him scath unwarcs: but all in vainc; 

For who can shun the chance that dcst’ny doth 
ordaine ? 

XXXVIII. Lo! where beyond he lyeth languishing, 

Deadly engored of a great wildc Bore; 

And by hb side the Goddesse groveling 
Makes for him endlessc mone, and evermore 
With her soft garment wipies away the gore 
Which staynes his snowy skin wflh hatcfull hew: 

But, when she saw no help>e might him restore, 

Him to a dainty flowre she did transmew, 

Which in that cloth was wrought as if it lively grew. 

346 The Faerie Queene 

XXXIX. So was that chamber clad in goodly wizc: 

And rownd about it many beds were dight, 

As whylome was the antique worldes guize. 

Some for untimely ease, some for delight, 

As pleased them to use that use it might; 

And all was full of Damzels and of Squyrcs, 

Dauncing and reveling both day and night. 

And swimming deepe in sensuall desyres ; 

And Cupid still emongest them kindled lustfull fyres. 

XL. And all the while sweet Musicke did divide 
Her looser notes with Is^dian harmony; 

And all the while sweet birdes thereto applide 
'Fheir daintie layes and dulcet melody. 

Ay caroling of love and jollity, 

That wonder was to hearc tlieir trim consort. 

Which when those knights beheld, with scornefull eye 
They sdoigned such lascivious disport, 

And loath’d the loose demeanurc of that wanton sort. 

XLi. Thence they were brought to that great Ladies vew, 
Whom they found sitting on a sumptuous bed 
That glistred all with gold and glorious shew, 

As the proud Persian Quecnes accustomed. 

She seemd a woman of great bountihed, 

And of rare beautic, saving that askaunce 
Her wanton eyes, ill signes of w^omanhed, 
l.)id roll too lightly, and too often glaunce. 

Without regard of grace or comely amenaunce. 

XLii. Long workc it were, and necdlcssc, to devize 
Their goodly entertainement and great glee. 

She caused them be led in courteous wize 
Into a bowre, disarmed for to be, 

And chcared well with wine and spiceree : 

The Redcrosse Knight was soon disarmed there; 

But the brave Mayd would not disarmed bee. 

But onely vented up her umbriere, 

And so did let her goodly visage to appere. 

XLTii. As when fayre Cynthia, in darkesome night. 

Is in a noyous cloud enveloped, 

WTiere she may finde the substance thin and light. 

Book III — Canto 1 34- 

Breakes forth her silver beames. and her bright hed 
Discovers to the world discomfited: 

Of the poore traveiler that went iislray 
With thousand blessings she is heried. 

Such was the beaulie and the shining rav. 

With which fayre IJritomart gave light unto the day. 

XLIV. And eke those six, which lately with her fought. 

Now were disarmd. and did them seKes present 
Unto her vew , and company unsought ; 

For thev all seemed courtt‘ous and gent. 

And all sixe brethren, ftorne of one panait, 

Which had them tra\ nd m all ci\iliiee. 

And goodly taught to tilt and turnanunt: 

Now were lhe\- hegmen to this La<hr Iree, 

And her knights service ought, l(> hold of her in fee. 

XLV. The first of them bv name (lardante highl, 

A jolly person, and of comely vew ; 

The second was Parlante. a bold knight; 

And next to him Jocante did ensew; 
basciante did him selfe most comhous sliew ; 

But fierce Bacchante seemd too fell and keene; 

And yett in a*mes Noctante greater grew : 

All were faire knights, ami g(HH]ly well bcscene; 

But to faire Britomart they all but shadowes becne. 

XLVi. For shcc was full of amiable grace 

And manly terror mixe<l therewithal!; 

That as the one stird up affections b.ue, 

So th’ other did mens rasli desires ajiall, 

And hold them bac kc* that would m error fall: 

As hee that hath esjade a vermeill Rose, 

To which sharp th(jrnes ,ind lirerc s tlie way forslall, 
Dare not for dread his hardy hand expose, 

But wishing it far off his ydle wish doth lose, 

XLVii. Whom when the Lady saw so faire a wight, 

All ignorant of her contrary sex, 

(For shec her weend a fresh and lusty knight,) 

Shee greatly gan enamoured to wex 

And with vaine thoughts her faked fancy vex: 

Her fickle hart conceived hasty fyre. 

348 The Faerie Queene 

Like sparkes of fire which fall in sclender flex, 

That shortly brent into extreme desyre, 

And ransackt all her veines with passion entyre. 

XLViii. Eftsoones shee grew to great impatience, 

And into termes of open outrage brust, 

That plaine discovered her incontinence; 

Ne reckt shee who her meaning did mistrust, 

For she was given all to fleshly lust. 

And poured forth in sensuall delight, 

That all regard of shame she had disciist. 

And meet respect of hhnor putt to flight: 

So shamelesse beauty soone becomes a loathly sight. 

XLix. Faire Ladies, that to love captived arre, 

And chaste desires doe nourish in your mind, 

Let not her fault your sweete affections marre, 

Ne hlott the bounty of all womankind, 

’Mongst thousands good one wanton Dame to find: 
Emongst the Roses grow some wicked weeds: 

Por this was not to love, but lust, inclind ; 

For love does alwaies bring forth bounteous deeds, 
And in each gentle hart desire of honor breeds. 

L. Nought so of love this looser Dame did skill. 

But as a cole to kindle fleshly flame, 

Giving the bridle to her wanton will, 

And treading under foote her honest name; 

Such love is hate, and such desire is shame. 

Still did she rove at her with crafty glaunce 
Of her false eies, that at her hart did aymc. 

And told her meaning in her countenaunce ; 

But Britomart dissembled it with ignorauncc. 

LI. Supper was shortly dight, and downe they satt; 
Where they were served with all sumptuous fare. 
Whiles fruitfull Ceres and Lyaeus fatt 
Pourd out their plenty without spight or spare. 
Nought wanted there that dainty was and rare. 

And aye the cups their bancks did overflow ; 

And aye betweene the cups she did prepare 
Way to her love, and secret darts did throw; 

But Britomart would not such guilfull message know. 


Book. Ill — Canto I 

MI. So, when they slaked had the fervent heat 
Of appetite with meatcs of every sort, 

The Lady did faire Brilomart entreat 
Her to disarme, and with deliphtfull sport 
To loose her warlike limbs and strong effort ; 

But when slice mote not thereunto be wonne, 

(For shee her sexe under that straunge piirix)rt 
Did use to hide, and plaine appuraiince shonne) 

In playner wise to tell her grievauncc she bcgonnc. 

Liii. And all attonce discovered her desire 

With sighes, and sobs, add plaints, and piteous griefe, 
The outward sparkes of her inburning fire ; 

Which spent in vaine, at last she told her bnefc, 

That but if she did lend her short reliefe 
And doe her comfort, she mote algates dye: 

But the chaste damzell, that had never priefe 
Of such malengine and fine forgerye. 

Did eascly beleeve her strong cxtremilye. 

Liv. Full easy was for her to have beliefe, 

Who by self-feeling of her feeble sexe, 

And by long triall of the inward gnefe 
Wherewith imperious love her hart did vexc, 

Could judge what paines doe loving harts jK rplexc. 

Who meancs no guile be guiletl soonest shall. 

And to faire semblaunre cloth light faith annexe: 

The bird that knowes not the false fowlers call, 

Into his hidden nett full easely doth fall. 

LV. Forthy she would not in disrourteise wivc 
Scorne the faire offer of good w ill profest 
For great rebuke it is lo\e to despise, 

Or rudely sdeigne a gentle harts recjuest; 

But with faire countenaunce, as beseemed best, 

Her entertaynd: nath’lesse shee inly deemd 
Her love too light, to wooe a wandring guest; 

Which she misconstruing, thereby estoernd 

That from like inward fire that outward smoke had steemd. 

Lvi. Therewith a while she her flit fancy fedd, 

Till she mote winne fit time for her desire; 

But yet her wound still inward freshly blcdd, 

35 ° 

The Faerie Queene 

And through her bones the false instilled fire 
Did spred it selfe, and venime close inspire, 

Tho were the tables taken all away ; 

And every knight, and every gentle Squire, 

Gan choose his Dame with Bascimano gay. 

With whom he ment to make his sport and courtly play. 

LVii. Some fell to daunce, some fel to hazard ry. 

Some to make love, some to make merymeni. 

As diverse witts to diverse things apply; 

And all the while faire Malecasta bent 
Her crafty engins to her dose intent. 

By this th’ eternall lampes, wherewith high Jove 
Doth light the lower world, were halfe yspent. 

And the moist daughters of huge Atlas strove 
Into the Ocean deepe to drive their weary drove. 

Lviii. High time it seemed then for everie wight 
Them to betake unto their kindly rest: 

Eftesoones long waxen torches weren light 
Unto their bowres to guyden every guest. 

Tho, when the Britonesse saw all the rest 
Avoided quite, she gan her selfe despoile. 

And safe committ to her soft fethered nest, 

Wher through long watch, and late daies weary toilc, 
She soundly slept, and carefull thoughts did quite assoile. 

Lix. Now whenas all the world in silence deepe 
Yshrowded was, and every mortall wight 
Wiis drowned in the depth of deadly sleepe; 

Faire Malecasta, whose engrieved spright 
Could find no rest in such perplexed plight. 

Lightly arose out of her wearie bed. 

And, under the blacke vele of guilty Night, 

Her with a scarlott mantle covered 

That was with gold and Ermines faire enveloped. 

LX. Then panting softc, and trembling every joynt. 

Her fcarfull fecte towards the bowre she mov’d. 

Where she for secret purpose did appoynt 
To lodge the w'arlike maide, unwisely loov’d; 

And, to her bed approching, first she proov’d 
Whether she slept or wakte : with her softc hand 

35 ' 

Book III — Canto I 

She softely felt if any member moo\ \1, 

And lent her wary eare to understand 
If any pufle of breath or signe of .seneo shoe fond. 

LXI. Which whcnas none she fond, with i asy shifte, 

For feare least her unwares she should ahraytl, 

Th* embroder’d quilt she lightly up did Idle, 

And by her side her selfe she sofllv ia\d, 

Of every finest fingers toiuh atTr*ivd ; 

Ne any noise she made, ne word slie sjxike, 

But inly sigh’d. At last the royall Mayd 
Out of her quiet slomlKT^lid awake, 

And chaunged her W'cary side the In lter eiL-'c to take. 

T.xii. Where feeling one close couched by her side, 

She lightly lept out of her filed hedil, 

And to her weapon ran, in mindc to gride 

The loathed leachour. Bui the Dame, halfe di'dd 

Through suddein feare and ghastly drerihedil, 

Did shrieke alowd, that through tin? hous it rong, 
And the whole family, therewith a<lredd, 

Rashly out of their rouzed couches s|)rong, 

And to the troubled chaml)cr all in aimes did tlirong. 

I. XIII. And those sixe knights, that ladies rham])ions 

An<l eke the R<‘dcrosse knight ran to the slownd. 

Half armd and halfe unarmd, with them altons: 
Where when confusedly they came, they fownd 
Their lady lying on the sencelesse grownd : 

On thotlur si<le they saw the warlike Mayd 

A1 in her snow-white smorke, with locks unhciwnd, 

Threatning the point of her avenging blaeri ; 

That with so troublous terror they were all dismayd. 

LXiv. Alx)ut their Ladye first they flockt arownd; 

Whom having laid in comfortable couch, 

Shortly they rcard out of her frosen swowmd ; 

And afterwardcs they gan with fowle reproch 
To stirre up strife, and troubk>us contecke broch: 

But by ensample of the last dayes lossc, 

None of them rashly durst to her approch, 

Ne in so glorious sprjilc themselves embr^se : 

Her succourd eke the Champion of the bloody Crosse. 

352 The Faerie Queene 

i.xv. But one of those sixe knights, Gardanti hight, 

Drew out a deadly bow and arrow keene, 

Which forth he sent, with felonous despight 
And fell intent, against the virgin sheene : 

The mortall steele stayd not till it was scene 
To gore her side; yet was the wound not deepe. 

But lightly rased her soft silken skin. 

That drops of purple blood thereout did wcepe. 

Which did her lilly smock with staines of vermeil steep. 

Lxvi. Wherewith enrag’d she fiercely at them flew, 

And with her flaming sw6rd about her layd. 

That none of them foulc mischiefe could eschew. 

But with her dreadfull strokes were all dismayd : 

Here, there, and every where, about her swayd 
Her wratlifull steele, that none mote it abyde; 

And eke the Rederossc knight gave her good ayd. 

Ay joyning foot to foot, and syde to syde; 

That in short spac e their foes they have quite terrifyde. 

LXVii. Tho, whenas all were put to shamefull flight. 

The noble Britomartis her arayd, 

And her bright arrnes about her b<j(ly (light. 

I'or nothing would she lenger there be stayd. 

Where so loose life, and so ungentle trade. 

Was usd of knightes and Liwlie'. seeniiiig gent: 

So earely, ere the grovse Karthes grus\ .sliade 
Was all dhperst out of the lirmanient, 

They looke their steeds, and forth upon tliiii journey 

Book. Ill — Canto II 



'Ilic Rodcrnsvi' kiiKht to Brittain irt 
DesmBcth Artr^.iH 

Thr ' •ndriui'" imn’i'nir 1>\ \sliu!i sli'* 

In l<)\e with him ilid tall 

r. Hkre Ikivc I wiiisc in nuii jlI^t liLinu- ii> tinii. 

That in their pro]MT priii^eitno p.utKill hte. 

And not inditTerent to wtnnan kind, 

To whom no ''I'are in armes and ehevalree 
'Fliey doi* imparl, ne inaki n nv nmn e 
Of their l)ra\e stes and prowesse maitiall 
Scarse do tliew ''p.iri* to mie, or two. or thri e. 

Row me in tlimr writles, vet tin ^ame wiitiHL' small 
Dots all their tleedes defa<e. ami dims llu-ir jjlones .ill. 

II. Ihit hv reeord (»f anti(|ut‘ times I finde 

'I'hat w'cmen w’oiit in w'arres to lie.ire most swa*. 

And to all L,Teat e\ploiti‘s them selvt s imliml, 

Of wiluh they still the iriil'Mid horr awav , 

'Till ( nvioiis Sf< n, f« arint; their rnh s dt « av. 

( Ian ( ovne stri i^lit lawes to ( urh tin ir hln rt 
\’i t sith the\ w.iihk< arim -v ha\< l.iide av. i\ . 

Thev hav(' ('\( « Id in artfs and polle \ . 

d'hat now we foolish men that prayse LTin « k( t i in*'.’. 

III. Of warlike innssaiim e m ap s spi rit, 

He thou, faire Hritomari. wlmse pravse I wr\rf; 

Hut of all wisedom lx e tlmii prindi nt. 

O soveraine Ouecne ! whose I would endyte, 
Kndite I would .'ts dewtn* doth exc \ te ; 

Hut ah I rny rymes too nnle anrl ru^'^^^d arre, 

When in so hijrh an ohjei t they do lyte. 

And, striving' tit to make. 1 feare. floe marrc: 

Thy s< ife thy prayses tell, and make them know'en farrf‘. 

IV. She, travelling with fiuyon, by the way 

Of sondry thim^^es faire purpose io finfl, 

T’ abridg their journey long, ami lingring da\ ; 


The Faerie Queene 

Mongst v.hich it fell into that Fairies mind 
To askc this Briton Maid, what uncouth wind 
Brought her into those partes, and what inquest 
Made her dissemble her disguised kind? 

Faire Lady she him seemd, like Lady drest. 

But fairest knight alive, when armed was her brest, 

V. Thereat she sighing softly had no powre 
To speakc a while, ne ready answere make; 

But with hart-thrilling throbs and bitter stowre, 

As if she had a fever fitt, did quake, 

And every daintie limbe with horrour shake ; 

And ever and anone the rosy red 

Flash t through her face, as it had beene a Hake 

Of lightning through bright heven fulmined : 

At last, the passion past, she thus him answered. 

VI. “ Faire Sir, I let you weete, that from the howre 
I taken was from nourses tender pap, 

1 have been trained up in warlike stowre. 

To tossen speare and shield, and to affrap 
The warlike rydor to his most mishap: 

Sithence I loathed have my life to lead, 

As Ladies wont, in pleasures wanton lap, 

To finger the fine needle and nyce thread, 

Me lever were with point of foemans speare be dead. 

VII. All my delight on deedes of armes is sett, 

To hunt out perilles and adventures hard, 

By sea, by land, wliere so they may be mett, 

Onely for honour and for high regard, 

Without respect of richesse or reward: 

For such intent into these partes I came, 

Withouten compasse or withouten card, 

Far fro my native soylc, that is by name 

The greater Brytayne, here to seek for praise and fame. 

vni. “ Fame blazed hath, that here in Faery lond 
Doe many famous knightes and Liidies wonne. 

And many straunge adventures to bee fond. 

Of which great worth and worship may be wonne; 
Which to prove, I this voyage have begonne. 

But mote I wcet of you, right courteous knight. 


Book III— Canto II 

Tydings of one that hath unto me donne 
Late foule dishonour and reprochfull spight. 

The which I scekc lo wreake, and Arthtg.dl he hight.’’ 

IX. The worde gone out she backo againe woiikl cull. 

As her repenting so to haw missayd, 

But that he, it iiptuking ere the fall. 

Her shortly answered: Faire mariiall Mayd, 

Certes ye misavised beene t’ upbra\d 
A gentle knight w'ith so unknightly blame; 

For, weet ye wtII, of all that (‘ver playd 
At tilt or tourney, or lik® warlike game, 

The noble Arthegall hath ever lx)rne the name. 

X. Forthy great womkr were it, it sneh shame 
Should ever enter in his bounteous thought. 

Or ever doe tliat mole deserven blame: 

The noble corage never weeneth ought 
That may unworthy of it selfe be llneiuht. 

Therefore, faire Darnzell. be ye well aware, 

Least that too f.irre ye have your sorrow sought: 

You and your countrey both 1 wish welfare, 

And honour both; for each of <jlher woilhy are.’* 

XI. The royall Maid w*oxe inly wtmdrous glad, 

To heare her Lo\e so higlily magnifyde; 

And joyd that ever she alTixed ha<l 

Her hart on knight s(j goodly glorifvde, 

How ever finely she it faincl to hyde. 

The loving mother, that nine rnonethes did bearc 
In the deare closet t of her painefull syde 
Her tender babe, it seeing safe appeare, 

Doth not so much rejnyre as she rejo>eed iheare. 

XII. But to ocfasion him to further talke, 

To feed her humor with his pleasing style, 

Her list in stryfull termes with him to balke, 

And thus rcf)lyde: “ How ever. Sir. ye fyle 
Your courteous tongue his prayses to rompyle, 

It ill hescemes a knight of genth* sort, 

Such as ye have him boasted, to h<*guyle 
A simple miiide, and worke so hainous tort, 

In shame of kniglithood, as I largely can report. 

356 The Faerie Queene 

XIII. “ Let bee therefore my vengeaunce to disswade. 

And read where I that fay tour false may find/* 

“ Ah ! but if reason faire might you perswade 
To slake your wrath, and mollify your mind ** 

(Said he) ** perhaps ye should it better find: 

For hardie thing it is, to weene by might 

That man to hard conditions to bind, 

Or ever hope to match in equall fight. 

Whose prowesse paragone saw never living wight. 

XIV, “ Ne soothlich is it easie for to read 

Where now on earth, or Kow, he may be fownd ; 

For he ne wonneth in one certeine stead. 

But restlesse walketh all the world arownd. 

Ay doing thinges that to his fame reclownd. 

Defending Ladies cause and Orphans right, 

Whereso he heares that any doth confownd 
Them comfortlesse through tyranny or might: 

So is his soveraine honour raisdc to hevens hight/' 

XV. His feeling wordes her feeble sence much pleased, 

And softly sunck into her molten hart: 

Hart that is inly hurt is greatly eased 

With hope of thing that may allegge his smart; 

For pleasing wordes are like to Magick art, 

That doth the charmed Snake in slomber lay. 

Such secrete ease felt gentle Britomart, 

Yet list the same efforce with faind gainesay; 

So dischord ofte in Musick makes the sweeter lay: — 

XV r. And sayd; “ Sir knight, these ydle termes forbeare; 
And, sith it is uneath to finde his haunt, 

Tell me some markes by which he may appeare, 

If chaunce I him encounter paravaunt; 

For perdy one shall other slay, or daunt: 

What shape, what shield, what armes, what steed, 
what stedd, 

And what so else his person most may vaunt? ** 

All which the Redcrosse knight to point aredd, 

And him in everie part before her fashioned. 

XVII. Yet him in everie part before she knew, 

However list her now her knowledge fayne. 


Book III — Canto II 

Sith him whylome in Britayne she did vew, 

To her revealed in a mirrhour plavne ; 

Whereof did grow her first engraffed payne, 

Whose root and stalke so bitter yet did taste. 

That but the fruit more swectncs did conUiyne, 

Her wretched dayes in dolour she mote waste, 

And yield the pray of love to lothsome death at lasL 

XVIII. By straunge occasion she did him Ixhold, 

And much more straungely gan to lo\e his sight, 

As it in bookes hath written beene of ohl. 

In Deheubarth, that nove South-wales is hight, 

What time king Rycnce raign’d and de.iled right, 

The great Magilien Merlin had deviz'd, 

By his dcepe science and hell-dieaded might, 

A looking glassc, right wondroiisly agui/'d. 

Whose vertiies through th«j w\de worldc soonc were 

XIX. It vertue had to shew in perfect sight 

Whatever thing was in the world u>nta> nd, 

Betwixt the lowest earth and hevens hight, 

So that it to the looker appertaynd: 

Whatever foe had wrought, or frend had f.iynd, 

Therein discovered was, ne ought mote pas, 

Ne ought in se( ret from the same rernavnd; 
f'orthy it round and hollow' shaped was, 

Like to the world itselfe, and seemd a world of glas. 

XX. Who wonders not, that reades so woiuierous workc? 

But who does wonder, that luis red the 'I'owre 
Wherein th’ Aegyplian I'hao long did lurki* 

From all mens vcw', that none might her disroure, 

Yet she might all men vew out of her bow re? 

Great Ptolomiec it for his lemans sake 
Ybuilded all of glasse, by Magic ke powrc, 

And also it impregnable did make ; 

Yet when his love was false he with a peaze it brake. 

XXI. Such was the glassy globe that Merlin made, 

And gave unto king Ryence for his gard, 

That never foes his kingdome might invade, 

But he it knew at home before he hard 


The Faerie Queene 

Tydings thereof, and so them still debar'd. 

It was a famous Present for a Prince, 

And worthy worke of infinite reward, 

That treasons could bewray, and foes convince: 
Happy this Realme, had it remayned ever since ! 

XXII. One day it fortuned fayre Britomart 
Into her fathers closet to repayre ; 

For nothing he from her reserv’d apart, 

Being his onely daughter and his hay re; 

Where when she had espyde that mirrhour fayre. 

Her selfe awhile therein she vewd in vaine: 

Tho, her avizing of the vertues rare 

Which thereof spoken were, she gan againe 

Her to bethinke of that mote to her selfe pertaine. 

XXIII. But as it fullcth, in the gentlest harts 

Imperious Love hath highest set his throne. 

And tyrannizeth in the bitter smarts 
Of them that to him buxome are and prone: 

So thought this Mayd (as maydens use to done) 
Whom fortune for her husband would allot: 

Not that she lusted after any one, 

For she was pure from blame of sinfull blott; 

Yet wist her life at last must lincke in that same knot. 

XXIV. Eftsoones there was presented to her eye 

A comely knight, all arm’d in complete wize. 

Through whose bright ventayle, lifted up on hye. 

His manly face, that did his foes ;igrize, 

And frends to termes of gentle truce entize, 

Lookt foorth, as Phoebus face out of the cast 
Betwixt two shady rnountaynes doth arize: 

Portly his person was, and much increast 
Through his Heroicke grace and honourable gest. 

XXV. His crest was covered with a couchant Hownd, 

And all his armour seemd of antique moi Id, 

But wondrous massy and assured sownd, 

And round about yfretted all with gold, 

In which there written was, with cyphres old, 

Achilles armes, which Arthegall did %vin : 

And on his shield enveloped sevenfold 


Book III — Canto II 

He bore a crowned little Ermelin, 

That deckt the azure field ith her fayre poiildred skin. 

XXVI. The Damzell well did vew his Personage 
And liked well, ne further fastned not. 

But went her wav ; ne her iKiguiltv iigc 
Did wcene, unwares, that her unluckv lot 
Lay hidden in the lK)ttome of the pot. 

Of hurt unwist most daunger doth redound; 

But the false Archer, which that arrow shot 
So slyly that site did not feele the wound. 

Did smyle full smootbiy at her weetles.s<.* wofiill stound. 

XXVII. Thenceforth the fether in her loftv (Test, 

Ruffed of love, gan lowly to availe ; 

And her prow'd portaunce and ht r prin<‘(dv gest, 

With which she earst tryumpluvl. now did (luailc: 
wSad, solemn, sowre, and full (d fanc'ies frailc, 

She woxe; yet wist she nether how, nor why. 

She wist not, silly Mayd, what she did ad *. 

Yet wist she was not w^dl at ease perdv ; 

Yet thought it w'as not love, hut some melancholy, 

xxviil. So soonc as Night had with her j)idhd hevv 
Defaste the bf aiitic of the shyning '^ky(^ 

And refte from men the worldes d( sired vew'. 

She with her Noursc adowne to sleeps di<l lye; 

But slcepc full far awav from her did fly: 

In stead thereof sad sighes and sorrowes dee^>c 
Kept watch and ward about h» r warily, 

That nought she did but w'ayh\ and often steepc 
Her dainty couch with teare^ winch closely she did 

XXIX. And if that any drop of slombring n st 

Did chaunce to still int(» her we.iry spnght. 

When fe(d)le nature felt her selfe opprest, 

Streight-way with dreames, and with fanUstirk sight 
Of dreadfull things, the same was put to flight; 

That oft out of her bed she did .csUut, 

As one with vew of ghastly feends affright; 

Tho gan she to renew her former smart, 

And thinke of that fayre visage written in her hart. 

360 The Faerie Queene 

XXX. One night, when she was tost with such unrest, 

Her aged Nourse, whose name was Glauci hight, 
Feeling her leape out of her loathed nest, 

Betwixt her feeble armcs her quickly height. 

And downe againe her in her warme bed dight: 

“ Ah ! my deare daughter, ah I my dearest dread. 
What uncouth fit,” (sayd she) “ what evill plight 
Hath thee opprest, and with sad drearyhead 
Chaunged thy lively cheare, and living made thee dead ? 

xxxr. “ For not of nought these suddein ghastly feares 
All night afflict thy naturall repose ; 

And all the day, when as thine equall peares 
Their fit disports with faire delight doe chose. 

Thou in dull corners doest thy selfe inclose; 

Ne tastest Princes pleasures, ne doest spred 
Abroad thy fresh youths fay rest flowre, but lose 
Both Icafe and fruite, both too untimely shed. 

As one in wilfull bale for ever buried. 

XXXII, ** The time that mortall men their weary cares 
Do lay away, and all wildc beastes do rest, 

And every river eke his course forbeares. 

Then doth this wicked evill thee infest. 

And rive with thousand throbs thy thrilled brest: 

Like an huge Aetn’ of deepe engulfed gryefe, 

Sorrow is heaped in thy hollow chest, 

Whence foorth it breakes in sighes and anguish ryfe, 
As smoke and sulphure mingled with confused stryfe. 

XXXIII. “ Ay me! how much I feare least love it bee I 
But if that love it be, as sure I read 
By knowen signes and passions which I see. 

Be it worthy of thy race and royall sead. 

Then I avow, by this most sacred head 
Of my deare foster childe, to ease thy griefe 
And win thy will: Therefore away doe dread; 

For death nor daunger from thy dew reliefe 

Shall me debarre: tell me therefore, my liefest liefel ” 

xxxiv. So having sayd, her twdxt her armes twaine 
Shce strcightly straynd, and colled tenderly; 

And every trembling joynt and every vaine 

Book III — Canto II 361 

Shee softly felt, and rubbed busily, 

To doe the frosen cold away to fly ; 

And her faire deawy cies with kisses doarc 
Shee ofte did bathe, and oftc ajjaine ditl dry; 

And ever her importund not to fcare 
To let the secret of her hart to l)cr ap]X‘are. 

XXXV. The Damzoll pauzd; and then thus fearfully: 

“ Ah! Nurse, what needeth thee t<> eke my payne? 

Is not enough that I alone doe dye. 

But it must doul)Ied \ycc with <iealh of twaine? 

For nought for me but death tliere doth reiniiine.” 

0 daughter deare! ** (said she) “ despeire no whit; 
For never sore hut mi‘/ht a ^alve ohtaine: 

That blinded Ciod, which hath ye hhndlv srnit, 
Another arrow hath your l«)vers hart to hit.'^ 

XXXVI. “ But mine is not ((juoth she) “ like otluT wownd; 
For which no reason can finde remedy. ' 

“ VV’jLS never siu h, hut mote the like he fownd/^ 

(Said she) “ and though no reason may apply 
Salve to your sore, yet love can highe r stye 
Then reasons reach, and oft hath wonde rs donne.'* 

“ But neither C]od of love nor (iod of skye 

Can doe ” (said she) “ that whic h c annot l>e donne.'* 

“ Things ofte impo'^sihle ” (cpiolh she) “ .seeme, ere 

XXXVII. “ These idle wordes (said she) “ dcjc nought aswagc 
My stuhhorne smart, but more annoiaunce breed: 

For no, no usual 1 fire, no u.suall rage 

Yt is, O Nourse ! which on my life doth fc’cd, 

And sucks the blood whic h from my hart dotli bleed: 
But since thy faithful zele lets me not hyde 
My crime, (if crime it lx*) I will it reed. 

Nor Prince nor pere it is, whose love hath gryde 
My feeble brest of late, and launched this wouncl w)de. 

XXXVIII. “ Nor man it is, nor other living wight, 

For then some hope I might unto me draw^; 

But th’ only shade and semblant of a knight, 

Whose shap>e or person yet I never .saw, 

Hath me subjected to loves cruell law ; 


The Faerie Queene 

The same one day, as me misfortune led, 

I in my fathers wondrous mirrhour saw, 

And, pleased with that seeming goodly-hed, 

Unwarcs the hidden hooke with baite I swallowed. 

XXXIX. “ Sithens it hath infixed faster hold 

Within my bleeding bowells, and so sore 
Now ranckleth in this same fraile fleshly mould, 

That all my entrailes flow with poisnous gore, 

And th’ ulcer groweth daily more and more; 

Ne can my ronning sore finde remedee. 

Other than my hard foft,une to deplore. 

And languish, as the leafe fain from the tree. 

Till death make one end of my daies and miseree ! 

XL. “ Daughter,” (said she) “ what need ye be dismayd? 

Or why make ye such Monster of your minde? 

Of much more uncouth thing I was affrayd, 

Of filthy lust, contrary unto kindc; 

Rut this affection nothing straungc I finde; 

For who with reason can you aye reprove 
To love the semblaunt pleasing most your minde, 

And yield your heart whence ye cannot remove.^ 

No guilt in you, but in the tyranny of love. 

XLi. ** Not so th^ Arabian Myrrhe did set her mynd. 

Nor so did Riblis spend her pining hart; 

But lov’d their native flesh against al kynd. 

And to their purpose used wicked art: 

Yet playd Pa^iphae a more monstrous part, 

That lov’d a Bui, and learnd a beast to bee. 

Such shamefull lustes who loaths not, which depart 
From course of nature and of modestee ? 

Swcetc love such lewdnes bands from his fa ire com- 

XLii. “ But thine, my Deare, (welfare thy heart, my deare I) 
Though straungc beginning had, yet fixed is 
On one that worthy may perhaps appeare ; 

And certes scemes bestowed not amis: 

Joy thereof have thou and eternall blis ! ” 

With that, upleaning on her elbow weake. 

Her alablaster brest she soft did kis, 


Book III— Canto II 

WTiich all that while shoe felt to pant and quake. 

As it an Earth-quake were: at hi'*! she thus l>esp.\kc. 

XLlll. “ Beldame, your words doe worke me litle ease; 

For though my love Ih‘ not so Itwdlv bent 
As those yc bhame, yet may it nouLjht appease 
My raging *;mart, ne ought my flame ••elent, 

But rather doth my hel[)less gnefe augment : 

For they, how ever shamefull ami unkinde, 

Vet did posscsse their horri]»le intent ; 

Short end of sorrowes they tlierby did finde ; 

So was their fortune good, though wieked were ihtir 

XLiv. “ But wi(ked fortune mine, though minde be good, 

Can have no ende nor hoj)e of my desin*. 

But feed on shadowes whiles I die for food, 

And like a shadow e wexe, whiles with entne 
Affection I doe languish and expire. 

I, fonder then ( cphisus foolish rln ld, 

Who, having vewed in a fountame shere 
His face, was with the love thereof beguvld ; 

I, fonder, lo\e a shade, the bodv far exv Id.” 

XLV. ” Nought like,” (quoth sh('e) ” for that same wretched boy 
Was of him sclfc the ydle Baramoure, 

Both love and lover, without hope of joy, 

For which he faded to a watry llowre: 

But better fortune thine, and better how re, 

Whic h lov’st the shadow of a warlike knight; 

No shadow but a body hath in pcjwre: 

That body, wheresoever that it light. 

May learned be by cyphers, or by Magirke might. 

XLVi. ” But if thou may with reason yet represse 
The growing evill, ere it strength have gott, 

And thee abandond wholy do f)ossesse, 

Against it strongly strive, and yield thee nott 
Til thou in open fielde adowne he smott: 

But if the passion mayster thy frailc might, 

So that needs love or death must \>ec thy lott, 

Then, I avow to thee, by wrong or right 
To compas thy desire, and find that lovtd knight.” 

364 The Faerie Queene 

XLVii. Her chearefull words much cheard the feeble spright 
Of the sicke virgin, that her downe she layd 
In her warmc bed to sleepe, if that she might; 

And the old-woman carefully displayd 
The clothes about her round with busy ayd ; 

So that at last a litle creeping sleepe 
Surprisd her sence : Shee, therewith well apayd. 

The dronken lamp down in the oyl did steepe, 

And sett her by to watch, and sett her by to weepe. 

XLViii. Earely, the morrow next, before that day 
His joyous face did to the world revele. 

They both uprose and tooke their ready way 
Unto the Church, their praiers to appele 
With great devotion, and with little zele: 

For the faire Damzel from the holy herse 
Her love-sicke hart to other thoughts did steale; 

And that old Dame said many an idle verse. 

Out of her daughters hart fond fancies to reverse^ 

XLix. Retournd home, the royall Infant fell 
Into her former fitt; for-why no powre 
Nor guidaunce of hersclfe in her did dwell: 

But th’ aged Nourse, her calling to her bowre. 

Had gathered Rew, and Savine, and the flowre 
Of Camphora, and Calamint, and Dill; 

All which she in a earthen Pot did poure, 

And to the brim with Coltwood did it fill. 

And many drops of milk and blood through it did spill, 

L, Then, taking thrise three heares from off her head, 
Them trebly breaded in a threefold lace. 

And round about the Pots mouth bound the thread ; 

And, after having whispered a space 

Certein sad words with hollow voire and bace, 

Shee to the virgin sayd, thrise sayd she itt; 

“ Come daughter, come; come, spit upon my face; 
Spitt thrise upon me, thrise upon me spitt ; 

Th’ uneven number for this busines is most fitt/’ 

LI. That sayd, her rownd about she from her tumd. 

She turnd her contrary to the Sunne; 

Thrise she her tumd contrary, and rcturnd 

Book III — Canto II 365 

All contrary ; for she the right did shunne ; 

And ever what she did was streight undonnc. 

So thought she to undoe her daughters love ; 

But love, that is in gentle brest begonne, 

No ydle charmes so lightly may remove: 

That well can witnesse who by tryall it does prove. 

Lii. Ne ought it mote the noble Mayd avayle, 

Ne slake the fury of her cruell flame, 

But that shee still did waste, and still did wayle. 

That, through long languour and hart-burning !)ramc, 

She shortly like a pyned ghost became 

Which long hath waited by the Stygian strond. 

That when old Glauc^ saw, for hare least blame 
Of her miscarriage should in her be fond, 

She wist not how t’amend, nor how it to withstood. 



The Faerie Queene 


Herein be\vrayc«i to Bntomart 
The state of Arthegall; 

And shows tin* famous Progeny, 

Which frf)m them spniigen shall. 

I. Most sacred fyre, that hiirncst mightily 
Jn living hrests, y kindled frrst aliove 
ICmongst th’ ctcrnall spheres and lamping sivV, 

And thence pourd into men, which men call Love! 

Not that same, wliich doth affections move 
Tn brutish mindes, and filthy lust inflame, 

Hut that sweete fit that doth true beautie love, 

And choseth vertuc for his dearest Dame, 

Whence s[)ring all noble deedes and never dying fame: 

II. Well did Antiquity a God thee deeme. 

That over mortall mindes hast so great might, 

To order them as best to thee doth seeme, 

And all their actions to direct aright: 

The fatall purpose of divine foresight 
Thou doest effect in destined descents, 

Through dcepe imjiression of thy secret might. 

And stirrcdst up th’ Heroes high intents, 

Which the late world admyres for wondrous moniments. 

III. lUit thy dredd dartes in none doe triumph more, 

Ne braver proofc in any of thy powre 
Shewd’st thou, then in this royall Maid of yore, 

Making her seeke an unknowne Paramoure, 

From the worlds end, through many a bitter stow re: 
From whose two loynes thou afterwardes did rayse 
Most famous fruites of matrimoniall bow re. 

Which through the earth have spredd their living pray: 
That fame in tromp of gold eternally displayes. 

IV. Begin then, O my dearest sacred Dame! 

Daughter of Plurbus and of Memor> c, 

That doest ennoble with immortall name 


Book III — Canto III 

The warlike \\ orthies, from aniit^iiitye, 

In thy great volume of Kternitvc: 

Begin, O Clio! and recount from hence 
My glorious St)vorciinos giunlly aunrc'^trve, 

Till that by dew degrees, *iiul lon^ jiretense. 

Thou have it lastly brought unto her V,\i , llVncc. 

V. Full many wayes \Nithin her troubled miiul 
Old Glauc^ cast to cure this I^ulies griete : 
hull many waies she sought, but none ('oiild find. 

Nor herbes, nor t harmes. n<»r counsel, that is c hu‘fe 
And choicest med’emt* fof uck harts lelu fe- 
Forthy great rare she t.ioke, and greater feare, 

Least that it sliouki her turne to fouK* rt'priele 
And sore reprotdi, whf*n so ht r father di .irr 
Should of his dearest daughters liard misfoiiune lu.ire. 

VI. At last she her avisrle, that he \\hi( h made 
That mirrhour, wheiein the sa ke Damosell 
So straungely vewed her straun-e lo\aTs shafle. 

To weet, the learned Meilin, uell r'onid tell 
Under what coast of heaven the man did dwell. 

And by w'hat means his love ini-ht l)f‘st be wnjught: 

For, though Iicyond the Afra k Ismael 

Or th’ Indian IVru he were, she thought 

Him forth tlirough infinite <*ndi‘\our to have soiedit. 

vir. Forthwith them selves disguising both m striuu-c 
And base atyre, none might tliem l)i wra\, 

'I'o Maridiinum, that is now' by (h.i'in:e 
Of name Cavr-.Merdin raid, tla \ looke their way: 
There the wise Merlin wh\lome wont (they s.i\ ) 

To make his wonne, low iindmieatli lli»‘ ground, 

In a deepe delve, farre from the vew ol flay, 

That of no living wight he mote be ftaind, 

When he so counseld with his sprights • n< omp.isl round. 

VIII. And, if thou ever happen that same way 
To traveill, go to sec that dreadful plarc. 

It is an hideous hollow* cave (they say^ 

Under a Rork that lyes a litlc spac(‘ 

From the swift Ikirry, tombling rlowne apace 
Fmongst the woody hilles of nvne\uwrc; 

368 The Faerie Queene 

But dare thou not, I charge, in any cace 
To enter into that same baleful Bowre, 

For feare the cruell Feendes should thee unwarcs'devowre : 

IX. But standing high aloft low lay thine eare, 

And there such ghastly noyse of yron chaines 
And brasen Caudrons thou shalt rombling heare, 

Which thousand sprights with long enduring paines 
Doe tosse, that it will stonn thy feeble braines; 

And oftentimes great grones, and grcvious stownds. 

When too huge toile and labour them constraines, 

And oftentimes loud strokes and ringing sovvndes 
From under that deepe Rock most horribly rebowndes. 

X. The cause, some say, is this: A litle whyle 
Before that Merlin dyde, he did intend 

A brasen wall in compas to compyle 
About Cairmardin, and did it commend 
Unto these Sprights to bring to perfect end : 

During which worke the Lady of the Lake, 

Whom long he lov’d, for him in hast did send ; 

Who, thereby forst his workemen to forsake » 

Them bownd till his retourne their labour not to slake. 

XI. In the meane time, through that false Ladies traine 
He was surprisd, and buried under bearc, 

Ne ever to his worke returnd againe: 

Nath’lcsse those fecnds may not their work forbeare. 

So greatly his comniandement they feare. 

But there doe toyle and traveile day and night, 

Untill that brasen wall they up doe reare; 

For Merlin had in Magick more insight 
Then ever him before, or after, living wight: 

XII. For he by wordcs could call out of the sky 

Both Sunne and Moone, and make them him obay; 

The Land to sea, and sea to maineland dry, 

And darksom night he eke could turne to day: 

Huge hosles of men he could alone dismay, 

And hostes of men of meanest thinges could frame. 

When so him list his enimics to fray ; 

That to this day, for terror of his fame, 

The feends do quake when any him to them does name. 


Book III — Canto III 

XIII. And, sooth, men say that he was not the sonne 
Of mortall Syre or other living wight, 

But wondrously begotten, and begonne 
By false illusion of a guilefull Spright 
On a faire 1-ady Nonne, that whilome hight 
Matilda, daughter to Pubidius, 

Who was the lord of Mathraval by right, 

And cooscii unto king Arnbrosius; 

Whence he indued was with skill so merveilous. 

XIV. They, here arriving, staid aw'hile without, 

Ne durst adventure rashk* in to werul. 

But of their first intent gan make new dout. 

For dread of daunger which it might portend; 

Untill the hardy Mayd (with love to frend) 

First entering, the dreadfull Mage there fownd 
Deepe busied bout worke of wondrous end, 

And writing straunge characters in the grownd. 

\\ ith which the stubborne feendes he to Ins service bow nd. 

XV. He nought was moved at their entraunce bold, 

For of their comming well he wast .ilore; 

Yet list them bid their businesse to unfold, 

As if ought in this world in secrete store 
Were from him hidden, or unknownc (»f vore. 

Then Glauc<^ thus: “ I^t not il thee offend, 

That we thus rashly through thy d.irksoiii florc 
Unwares have prest; for either faUill end. 

Or other mightie cause, us two <]id hither send.’’ 

XVI. He bad tell on; And then she thus began. 

‘‘ Now have three Mooncs with borrow'd brother:> light 
Thrise shined faire, and thrise seemd dim and wan, 

Sith a sore cvill, which this virgin bright 
Tormenteth and doth plonge in dolefull |)lighl, 

First rooting tooke; but what thing it mote bee. 

Or whence it sprong, I can not read aright: 

But this I read, that, but if remedee 

Thou her afford, full shortly I her dead shall see.” 

XVII. Therewith th* Enchaunter softly gan to smylc 
At her smooth speeches, wee ting inly well 
That she to him dissembled woman ’»h guyle, 

37 ° 

The Faerie Queene 

And to her said : “ Beldame, by that ye tell 
More neede of leach-crafte hath your Damozell, 

Then of my skill: who helpe may have elsewhere. 

In vaine seekes wonders out of Magick spell.” 

Th’ old woman wox half blanck those wordes to heare, 
And yet was loth to let her purpose plaine appeare; 

XVIII. And to him said: “ Yf any leaches skill. 

Or other learned meanes, could have redrest 
This my deare daughters deepe engraffed ill, 

Certes 1 should be loth thee to molest ; 

But this sad evill, which, dost her infest, 

Doth course of naturall cause farre exceed. 

And housed is within her hollow brest, 

7'hat cither seemes some cursed witches deed, 

Or evill spright, that in her doth such torment breed.” 

XIX. The wisard could no lenger bcare her bord, 

But, bursting forth in laughter, to her sayd : 

” Glaucd, what needes this colourable word 
To cloke the cause that hath it selfe bewrayd ? 

Ne ye, fayre Britomartis, thus arayd, 

More hidden are then Sunne in cloudy vele; 

Whom thy good fortune, having fate obayd. 

Hath hither brought for succour to appele; 

The which the powres to thee are pleased to rcvele.” 

XX. Tlie doubtfull Mayd, seeing her selfe dcscryde, 

Was all abasht, and her pure yvory 
Into a cleare Carnation sucklcine dyde ; 

As fayre Aurora, rysing hastily. 

Doth by her blushing tell that she did lye 
All night in old Tithonus frozen bed. 

Whereof she seemes ashamed inwardly : 

But her olde Nourse was nought dishartened. 

But vauntage made of that which Merlin had ared; 

XXI. And sayd; ** Sith then thou knowest all our griefc, 
(For what doest not thou knowe.^) of grace I pray, 
Pitty our playnt, and yield us meet reliefe.” 

With that the Prophet still awhile did stay, 

And then his spirite thus gan foorth display : 

“ Most noble Virgin, that by fatall lore 

37 * 

Book III — Canto III 

Hast leam’d to love, let no whit thee dismay 
The hard beginne that mectes thee in the dorc. 

And with sharpe fits thy tender hart oppresseth sore: 

XXII. “ For so must all things excellent begin; 

And eke enrooted deepe must be that Tree, 

Whose big embodied braiinches sh.dl not lin 
Till they to hevens hight forth stretched bee: 
for from thy wombe a famous Progence 
Shall spring out of the auncient Trojan blood, 

V\ hich shtall revive the sleeping memorce 
Of those same antique I^res, the hevens brood, 

Which Greeke and Asian rivers stayned with their blood. 

xxiii. ** Renowmed kings, and sacred Kmperours, 

Thy fruitfull Ofspring, shall from thee descend ; 

Brave Captaines, and most mighty warnours. 

That shall their conquests through all lands extend, 

And their decayed kingdomes shall amend: 

The feeble Britons, broken with long warre. 

They shall upreare, and mightily defend 
Against their forren foe that commes from f.vrre, 

Till universall peace compound all civ ill jarre. 

XXIV. ** It was not, Britomart, thy wandring eve 
Glauncing unwares in charmed looking glas, 

But the straight course of hevcnly destiny, 

Led with ctcrnall providence, that has 
Guyded thy glaunce, to bring his will to i)as: 

Ne is thy fate, ne is thy fortune ill, 

To love the prowest knight that ever was. 

Therefore submit thy waves unto his will. 

And doe by all dew meanes thy destiny fulfill.’* 

XXV. But read,” (saide Glauc^) “ thou Miigitian, 

What meanes shall she out seeke, or what waics take? 
How' shall she know, how shall she finde the man? 

Or what needes her to toyle. sith fates can make 
Way for themselves the.r p irpose to jKTlake? ” 

Then Merlin thus: “ Indeecle the fates are firme, 

And may not shrinck, thfuigh all the world do shake; 

Yet ought mens good endevours them confirme. 

And guyde the heavenly causes to their constant tcrmc. 

372 The Faerie Queene 

xxvr. “ The man, whom heavens have ordaynd to bee 
The spouse of Britomart, is Arthegall: 

He wonneth in the land of Fayeree, 

Yet is no Fary borne, ne sib at all 
To Elfes, but sprong of seed terrestriall, 

And whylome by false Faries stolne away, 

Whyles yet in infant cradle he did crall; 

Nc other to himselfe is knowne this day, 

But that he by an Fife was gotten of a Fay: 

XXVII. “ But sooth he is the sonne of Gorlois, 

And brother unto Cador, Cornish king; 

And for his warlike feates renowmed is. 

From where the day out of the sea doth spring. 

Untill the closure of the Evening: 

From thence him, firmely bound with faithfull band, 
To this his native soyle thou backe shalt bring, 
Strongly to ayde his countrey to withstand 
The powre of forreine Paynims which invade thy land 

xxviir. “ Great ayd thereto his mighty puissaunce 

And dreaded name shall give in that sad day; 

Where also proofe of thy prow valiaunce 
Thou then shalt make, t’ increase thy lover’s pray. 
Long time ye both in armes shall beare great sway. 
Till thy wombes burden thee from them do call, 

And his last fate him from thee take away; 

- Too rathe cut off by practise criminall 
Of secrete foes, that him shall make in mischiefe fall. 

XXIX. “ With thee yet shall he leave, for memory 
Of his late puissaunce, his ymage dead. 

That living him in all activity 
To thee shall represent. He, from the head 
Of his coosen Constantius, without dread 
Shall take the crowne that was his fathers right, 

And therewith crowne himselfe in th’ others stead; 
Then shall he issew forth with drcadfull might 
Against his Saxon foes in bloody field to fight. 

XXX. “ Like as a Lyon that in drowsie cave 

Hath long time slept, himselfe so shall he shake; 

And comming forth shall spred his banner brave 


Book III — Canto III 

Over the troubled South, that it shall make 
The warlike Mertians for feare to quake: 

Thrise shall he fight with them, and iwise shall win; 
But the third time shall fayre accordauncc make: 
And, if he then with victorie can lin, 

He shall his dayes w’ith peace bring to his earl hi v In. 

XXXI. ** His sonne, hight Vortipore, shall him surceede 
In kingdome, but not in felicity: 

Yet shall he long time wane with happy speed, 

And with great honour many balteills try; 

But at the last to th'^importunity 
Of froward fortune shall be forst to yield: 

But his sonne Malgo shall full mightilv 
Avenge his fathers losse with speari* and shield, 

And his proud foes discomfit in \ u lorious field. 

XXXII. Behold the man! and tell me, Hritomari, 

If ay more goodly creature thou didst see? 

How like a Gyaunt in each manly part 
Beares he himselfe with portly majestee, 

That one of tlf old Heroes seemes to bee! 

He the six Islands, rom[)ro\ innall 
In auncicnt times unto great Hntainee, 

Shall to the same rc<luce, ami to him call 
Their sundry kings to do their homage severall. 

XXXIII. “ All which his sonne ('aretkus awhile 

Shall well defend, and Saxons powre suppresse; 

Untill a straunger king, from iinknowne sovle 
Arriving, him with multitmle oj>presse, 

Great Gormond, having with huge niightinessc 
Ireland subdewd, and therein fixt his throne. 

Like a swift Otter, fell through t minim sse, 

Shall overswim the sea, with many one 
Of his Norveyscs, to assist the Britons fonc. 

XXXIV. “ He in his furie shall overronne, 

And holy Church with failhlesse handes deface, 

That thy sad people, utterly fordonne, 

Shall to the utmost mountaincs fly apace. 

Was never so great waste in any place, 

Nor so fowle outrage doen by living men ; 


37 + 

The Faerie Queene 

For all thy Citties they shall sacke and race. 

And the greene grasse that groweth they shall bren, 
That even the wilde beast shall dy in starved den. 

XXXV. “ Whiles thus thy Britons doe in languour pine, 
Proud Etheldred shall from the North arise, 

Serving th* ambitious will of Augustine, 

And, passing Dee, with hardy enterprise 
Shall backe repulse the valiaunt Brockwell twise, 

And Bangor with massacred Martyrs fill. 

But the third time shall rew his foolhardise: 

For Cadwan, pittying Ifis peoples ill, 

Shall stoutly him defeat, and thousand Saxons kill. 

xxxvi. “ But after him, Cadwallin mightily 

On his sonne Edwin all those wrongs shall wreakc; 
Ne shall availe the wicked sorcery 
Of false Pollite his purposes to breake, 

But him shall slay, and on a gallowes bleak 
Shall give th’ enchaunter his unhappy hire. 

Then shall the Britons, late dismayd and weake. 
From their long vassalage gin to respire. 

And on their Paynim foes avenge their rancklcd ire. 

xxxvii. ** Ne shall he yet his wrath so mitigate, 

Till both the sonnes of Edwin he have slaync, 
OfTricke and Osricke, twinnes unfortunate. 

Both slaine in battaile upon Layburne playne. 
Together with the king of Louthiane, 
night Adin, and the king of Orkeny, 

Both joynt partakers of their fatall payne: 

But Penda, fcarefull of like desteny. 

Shall yield him selfe his liegeman, and sweare fealty. 

XXXVIII. ** Him shall he make his fatall Instrument 
T’ afilict the other Saxons unsubdewd; 

He marching forth with fury insolent 
Against the good king Oswald, who indewd 
With heavenly powre, and by Angels reskewd, 

A1 holding crosses in their hands on hye. 

Shall him defeate withouten blood imbrewd: 

Of which that field, for endlesse memory. 

Shall Hevenficld be cald to all posterity. 

Book III — Canto III 375 

XXXIX. “ Whereat Cadwallin wroth shall forth Lssew, 

And an huge hoste into Northumber lead. 

With which he godly Oswald sliall sulxlcw, 

And crowne with martiredome his sacred head: 

Whose brother Oswin, daunted \Mlh like dread. 

With price of silver shall his kingdomc buy; 

And Pcnda, seeking him adowne to tread, 

Shall tread ado\\ne, and doe him fowly ilye: 

But shall with guifts his I-ord ( adwallin [ucify. 

XL. ** Then shall Cadwallin die; and then the raine 
Of Britons eke with him attonce shall dye ; 

Ne shall the good Cad^allader, with paine 
Or powre, be hable it to remedy, 

When the full time, pnTixt by ilestinv, 

Shall be expird of Biituns regiment. 

For heven it selfe shall their eruy, 

And them with plagues and inurnns pestilent 
Consume, till all their warlike puissaunce be sj)ent. 

XLi. Yet after all these sorrowes, and huge hills 
Of dying people, during eight yeares space, 
Cadwallader, not yielding to his ills, 

From Armoricke, ^hcrc long in wretched cace 
He liv’d, retourning to his native plac e, 

Shal be by vision staide from his intent: 

For th’ heavens have decreed to «lisplai <• 

The Britons for their sinnes dew punishment 
And to the Saxons over-give their government. 

XLii. “ Then woe, and w'oe, and everlasting woe, 

Be to the lirilon babe that shal be borne 
To live in thraldomc of his fathers foe ! 

Late king, now captive; late l(»r<l, now forlorne; 

The worlds reproch ; the cruell victors scornr : 
Banisht from princely bowrc to waslefull wood ! 

O! who shal hel^K: me to lament and mournc 
The royall seed, the anlirjue 'iVojan blo(;d, 

Whose empire longer here then ever any stoorl? 

XLIII. The Damzcll was full deejx- cmpa.ssioncd 

Both for his griefe, and for her peoj)les sake, 

Whose future woes so plaine he fashioned; 

376 The Faerie Queene 

And, sighing sore, at length him thus bespake; 

** Ah ! but will hevens fury never slake, 

Nor vengeaunce huge relent it selfe at last? 

Will not long misery late mercy make, 

But shall their name for ever be defaste, 

And quite from off the earth their memory be raste ? *' 

XLiv. ** Nay but the terme ** (sayd he) “ is limited. 

That in this thraldome Britons shall abide; 

And the just revolution measured 
That they as Straungers shall be notifide : 

For twise fowre hundreth ^eares shal be supplide, 

Ere they to former rule restor'd shal bee. 

And their importune fates all satisfide: 

Yet, during this their most obscuritee. 

Their bcames shall ofte breake forth, that men them 
faire may see. 

XLV. “ For Rhodoricke, whose surname shal be Great, 

Shall of him selfe a brave ensample shew, 

That Saxon kinges his friendship shall intreat; 

And Howell Dha shall goodly well indew 
'Fhe salvage minds with skill of just and trew: 

Then GrilTyth Conan also shall upreare 
His dreaded head, and the old sparkes renew 
Of native corage, that his foes shall feare. 

Least back againe the kingdom he from them should beare. 

XL VI. “ Ne shall the Saxons selves all peaceably 

Enjoy the crowne, which they from Britons wonne 
First ill, and after ruled wickedly ; 

For^ ere two hundred yeares be full outronne. 

There shall a Raven, far from rising Sunne, 

With his wide wings upon them fiercely fly, 

And bid his faithlcssc chickens overronne 
The fruitfull plaincs, and with fell cruelty 
In their avenge tread downe the victors surquedry. 

XLVii. “ Yet shall a third both these and thine subdew. 

There shall a Lion from the sea-bord wood 
Of Neustria come roring, with a crew 
Of hungry whelpes, his battailous bold brood, 

W'hose clawes were newly dipt in cruddy blood, 

That from the Daniske Tyrants head shall rend 

Book III — Canto III -^7^ 

Th usurped crowne, as if that he were wi>od, 

And the spoile of the countrev conquered 
Emongst his young ones shall tlivide wiih Iwimtyhed. 

XLViii. Tho, when the terme is full accomplislud, 

There shall a sparke of fire, whuh halli longwhile 
Bene in his ashes raked up and hid. 

Bee freshly kindled in the fruilfull lie 
Of Mona, where it lurked in exile; 

Which shall breake forth into bright burning flame, 
And reach into the house that beares tin* stile 
Of roiall majesty an<f soverainc name : 

So shall the Briton blood their crowne agayn reclame, 

XLix. Thenceforth eternall union shall be mad ; 

Betw'eene the nations <lifTerent afore, 

And sacred Peace shall lovingly persuade 
The warlike minds to learne her goodly lore, 

And civile armes to exercise no more : 

Then shall a royall Virgin rainc, which shall 
Stretch her white rod over the lielgicke shore, 

And the great Castle smite so sore withall, 

That it shall make him shake, and shortly learn to fall. 

L. “ But yet the end is not ’’ — There Merlin sUiyd, 

As ovcrcomen of the spirites powre, 

Or other ghastly specUicle disrnayd, 

That secretly he saw, yet note disc oure: 

W hich suddein fitt, and halfe exLvtn k stoiire, 

When the two fearefull wemen saw, they grew 
Greatly c<infusc(l in Ix-haveoure. 

At last, the fury picst, to former hew 

Hee turnd againc, and chearfull kx/ks as earst did shew. 

LI. Then, when them selves they well instructed had 
Of all that needed them to be inquird, 

They l^oth, conceiving hope of comfort glad, 

With lighter hearts unto their home retird; 

W here they in secret counsel! close cxinspird, 

How to effect so hard an enterprize, 

And to posscssc the purpose they d< sird: 

Now this, now that, twixt them they did devize, 

And diverse plots did frame to maske in strange disguise. 

378 The Faerie Queene 


Lii. At last the Nourse in her foolhardy wit 
Conceived a bold devise, and thus bespake: 

“ Daughter, I deeme that counsel aye most fit, 

That of the time doth dew advauntage take. 

Ye see that good king Uther now doth make 
Strong warre upon the Paynim brethren, hight 
Octa and Oza, whome hee lately brake 
Beside Cayr Verolame in victorious fight, 

That now all Britany doth burne in armes bright. 

Liii. “ That, therefore, nought our passage may empeach, 
Let us in feigned armes oifi" selves disguize, 

And our wcake hands (need makes good schollers) teach 
The dreadful speare and shield to exercize: 

Ne certes, daughter, that same warlike wize, 

I wcene, would you misseeme; for ye beene tall. 

And large of limbe t’ atchieve an hard emprize ; 

Ne ought ye want but skil, which practize small 
Wil bring, and shortly make you a mayd Martiall. 

Liv. “ And, sooth, it ought your corage much inflame 
To heare so often, in that royall hous, 

From whence, to none inferior, ye came, 

Bards tell of many women valorous, 

Which have full many feats adventurous 
Performd, in paragone of proudest men: 

The bold Bunduca, whose victorious 

Exploy ts made Rome to quake; stout Guendolen; 

Renowmed Martia; and redoubted Emmilcn. 

LV. “ And, that which more then all the rest may sway, 
Late dayes ensample, which these eyes beheld; 

In the last field before Menevia, 

Which Uther with those forrein Pagans held, 

I saw a Saxon Virgin, the which fold 
Great Ulfin thrise upon the bloody playne; 

And, had not Carados her hand withheld 
From rash revenge, she had him surely slayne: 

Yet Carados hirnsclfe from her escapt with payne.” 

LVI. “ Ah! read,*' (quoth Britomart) “ how is she hight? 

** Fayrc Angela ** (quoth she) “ men do her call, 

No whit lesse fay re then terrible in fight: 


Book Ill—Canto III 

She hath the leading of a Martial! 

And mightie f>eople, dreaded more then all 
The other Saxons, which doe, for her sake 
And love, themselves of her name Angles c all. 
Therefore, fairc Infant, her ensample make 
Unto thy sclfe, and eqiiall corage to thee lake.” 

Lvir. Her harty wordes so deepe into the mvnd 
Of the yong Damzell siinke, that great desire 
Of warlike armes in her forthwith they tvnd, 

And generous stout courage did inspvre. 

That she resolvVi, imwctting to her Syre, 

AdventVous knighthood on her sclfe to don; 

And counseld with her Xoursc her Maides a tty re 
To turne into a massy habergeon. 

And bad her all things put in readiiiesse anon. 

LViii. Th* old woman nought that needed did omit, 

But all thinges did conveniently purvav. 

It fortuned (so time their turne did fitt) 

A band of Britons, ryding on forray 
Few dayos before, had gotten a great pray 
Of Saxon goods; em.mgst the which was scene 
A goodly Armour, and full rich aray, 

Wliich long’d to Angela, the Saxon Oueene, 

All fretted round with gold, and goo<]ly wcl besccnc. 

Lix. The same, with all the other ornaments, 

King Ryence caused to be hanged hy 
In his chiefe Church, for cndlc*sse rnoniments 
Of his succcsse and gladfull victory: 

Of which her sclfe avising readily. 

In th’ evening late old Glaucd thither led 

Faire Britomart, and, that same Armory 

Downe taking, her therein appareled 

Well as she might, and witlt brave bauldrick garnished. 

LX. Beside those armes there stood a mightie spcarc, 
Which Bladud made by Magick art of yore, 

And usd the same in batteill aye to bcare ; 

Sith which it had becne here preserv’d in store, 

For his great virtues proved long afore: 

For never wight so fast in sell could sit. 

The Faerie Queene 

But him perforce unto the ground it bore. 

Both speare she tooke and shield which hong by it; 

Both speare and shield of great powre, for her purpose fit. 

LXi. Thus when she had the virgin all arayd, 

Another harnesse which did hang thereby 
About her selfe she dight, that the yong Mayd 
She might in equall armes accompany, 

And as her Sqiiyre attend her carefully. 

Tho to their ready Steedes they clombe full light, 

And through back waies, that none might them espy, 
Covered with secret cloud 6f silent night. 

Themselves they forth convaid, and passed forward right. 

LXii. Ne rested they, till that to Faery lond 
They came, as Merlin them directed late: 

Where, meeting with this Redcrosse Knight, she fond 
Of diverse thinges discourses to dilate, 

And most of Arthegall and his estate. 

At last their wayes so fell, that they mote part: 

Then each to other, well affectionate, 

Friendship professed with unfained hart. 

The Redcrosse Knight diverst, but forth rode Britomart. 

Book III — Canto IV 



Bold Marmell of Bntomart 
Is throNMU' on the Rich Mroiitl 
Fairo Mt'riiiirll of Arlhurc is 
I-on>^ hdloNSfd, but not 

I. Where is the Antique glon* now beionie. 

That whylome wont in wefnen to appeared 
Where be the brave atchieveinenls (Incn bv some? 

Where be the b.ittcilles, where the shu Id and spr ue. 
And all tlic conquests which them hi^h did reaie. 

That matter made fur famous Poets versr, 

And boastfull men so oft abasht to heare? 

Beene they all dead, and laide in dolefnll heise. 

Or doen tlu‘y onely sleepe, and shall ag.iine rcveise '' 

II. If they be dead, then woe is me therefop'; 

But if they sleepe, O let them soone aNsake! 

For all too long I burnc with envy sore 
To heare the warlike feates which Ihunere spake 
Of bold Penthcsilee, which made a lake 
Of Greckish blood so oftc in 'J'rojan plaine; 

But when I reade, how stout Debor.i strake 
Proud Sisera, and how Camill’ hath slaine 
llic huge Orsilochus, I swell with great rlis<l,ii:i'’. 

III. Yet these, and all that els hafl puissauin e, 

Cannot w ith noble Britomart compare, 

As well for glorie of great valiaunre. 

As for pure chastitcc and vertue rare, 

That all her goodly deedes doe well declare. 

W''ell worthie slock, from wliuh tlie branches ^prong 
That in late y cares so faire a blossome bare, 

As thee. O Quecne! the matter of my song, 

Whose lignage from this I^dy I derive along. 

IV. W’ho when, through spearhes with the Redcrossc Knight, 
She learned had th' estate of Arthegall, 

And in each point her selfe informd aright, 

382 The Faerie Queene 

A friendly league of love perpetuall 

She with him bound, and Cong6 tooke withall: 

Then he forth on his journey did proceede, 

To seeke adventures which mote him befall, 

And win him worship through his warlike deed, 

Which alwaies of his paines he made the chiefest meed. 

V. But Britomart kept on her former course, 

Nc ever dofte her armes, but all the way 
Grew pensive through that amarous discourse. 

By which the Redcrosse knight did earst display 
Her lovers shape and chevalrous aray : 

A thousand thoughts she fashiond in her mind. 

And in her feigning fancie did pourtray 
Him such as fittest she for love could find, 

Wise, warlike, personable, courteous, and kind. 

VI. With such selfc-pleasing thoughts her wound she fedd. 
And thought so to beguile her grievous smart; 

But so her smart was much more grievous bredd. 

And the deepe wound more deep engord her hart. 

That nought but death her dolour mote depart. 

So forth she rode, without repose or rest. 

Searching all lands and each remotest part. 

Following the guydance of her blinded guest, 

Till that to the sea-coast at length she her addrest. 

VII. There she alighted from her light-foot beast, 

And sitting downe upon the rocky shore. 

Bade! her old Squyre unlace her lofty creast: 

Tho having vewd awhile the surges hore 
That gainst the craggy clifts did loudly rorc, 

And in their raging siirquedry disdaynd 
That the fast earth affronted them so sore. 

And their devouring covetize restraynd ; 

Thereat she sighed deepe, and after thus complaynd. 

ViiT. Huge sea of sorrow and tempestuous griefe. 

Wherein my feeble barke is tossed long 
Far from the hop>ed haven of rcliefe, 

Why doe thy cruell billowes beat so strong, 

And thy moyst mountaines each on others throng. 
Threat ning to swallow up my fearefull lyfc? 


Book III— Canto IV 

O! doe thy cruell wrath and spiglufull wrong 
At length allay, and stint thy siormy strife, 

Which in thy troubled Ixjwels raigncs and mgelh lyfe. 

IX. “ For els my feeble vessell, crazd and erackt 

Through thy strong bufTets and outnigcous blowes, 
Cannot endure, but needcs it must In? v. rackt 
On the rough rocks, or on the santiy shallowes. 

The whiles that love it stores, and h^rtune row os: 
Love, my lewd Pilolt. hath a restlo^so mnnio; 

And fortune, Botoswaine, no assurance kno\>os; 

But saile withouten sUul'es against lyde anti winde: 
How can they other cioe, sith both are Ixdd and blintJe? 

X. “ Thou God of windes. that raignest in the seas. 

That raignest also in the ('ontiru*nt. 

At last blow up some gentle gale of e;vso, 

The which may bring my slnp, ere it be rent, 

Unto the ghuisome port of her intent. 

Then, when 1 shall my selfc in safety see, 

A table, for etcrnall monimcnt 

Of thy great grace an<l my great jeopardee, 

Great Neptune, I avow t<» hallow unto thee! 

XI. Then sighing softly sore, and inly drepo, 

She shut up all her plaint in privv gnefe 

For her great counige woiiUl not let her wrepe, 

Till that old Glauc<> gan with sharpe re|»riefc 
Her to restraine, and give her g(x>d reliefe 
Through hope of those, which Merlin had her told 
Should of her name and nation be chiefc, 

And fetch their l>eing from the sacred mould 
Of her immortall womb, to be in heaven cnrolu 

XII. Thus as she her rccomforted, she spyde 
Where far away one, all in armour l)nght. 

With hasty gallop towards her did r\'de. 

Her dolour soone she ceast, and on her flight 
Her Helmet, to her Courser mounting light: 

Her former sorrow into suddein wrath, 

Both coosen pa.ssions of distroublcd spright, 
Converting, forth she beates the dusty path; 

Love and despight atlonce her courage kindled hath. 

384 The Faerie Queene 

XIII. As, when a foggy mist hath overcast 

The face of heven, and the cleare ayre engroste, 

The world in darkenes dwels; till that at last 
The watry Southwinde, from the seabord coste 
Upblowing, doth disperse the vapour lo’ste, 

And poures it selfe forth in a stormy showre : 

So the fay re Britomart, having disclo’ste 
Her dowdy care into a wrathfull stowre. 

The mist of griefe dissolv’d did into vengeance powre. 

XIV. Eftsoones, her goodly shield addressing fayre, 

That mortall speare she ki her hand did take, 

And unto battaill did her selfe prepay re. 

The knight, approching, sternely her bespake : 

“ Sir knight, that doest thy voyage raslily make 
By this forbidden way in my dcspight, 

Ne doest by others death ensample take, 

I read thee soone retyre, whiles thou hast might. 

Least afterwards it be too late to take thy flight.” 

XV. Ythrild with deepe disdaine of his proud threat, 

She shortly thus: “ Fly they, that need to fly; 

Wordes fcaren babes. I meane not thee entreat 
To passe, but maugre thee will passe or dy.” 

Ne longer sUiyd for th’ other to reply. 

But with sharpe speare the rest made dearly knowne. 
Strongly the straunge knight ran, and sturdily 
Strooke her full on the brest, that made her downe 
Decline her head, and touch her crouper with her crown. 

XVI. But she againe him in the shield did smite 
With so fierce furie and great puissaunce, 

That, through his three-square scuchin percing quite 
And through his mayled hauberque, by mischaunce 
The wicked steele through his lett side did glaunce. 
Him so transfixed she before her bore 
Beyond his croupe, the length of all her launce; 

Till, sjidly soucing on the sandy shore, 

He tomblcd on an heape, and wallowd in his gorcg 

XVII. Like as the sacred Oxe that carelcsse stands. 

With gilden homes and flowry girlonds crownd, 

Proud of his dying honor and deare bandes, 

Book III— Canto IV 


WTiiles th’ altars fume with frankincense nrownd, 

All suddeinly, with mortall stroke astownd, 

Doth groveling fall, and with his streaming gore 
Distaines the pilkairs and the holy grownd, 

And the faire flowres that decketi him afore : 

So fell proud Marinell upon the prctioiis shore. 

xvrii. The martiall Mayd stayd not him to lament, 

But forward rmie, and kept her rcadv wav 
Along the strond; which, as she over-went. 

She saw bes trowed all with rich aray 
Of pearlcs and pretious atones of great .assay. 

And all the gravell mixt with golden owre: 

Whereat she w'ondred much, but would not stay 
For gold, or perles, or j)r(‘tious stf)n(‘s, .an how re, 

But them despised all; for all was in her powre. 

XIX. Whiles thus he lay in deadly stonishment, 

Tydings hereof came to his mothers e.ire: 

His mother the bl.\ekc-browd ('ymomt, 

The daughter of great Nercus, whic h did bearc 
This wwlike sonne unto an earthlv peare, 

The famous Dumarin; who, on a day 
Finding the Nymph aslecpc in secret whoarc, 

As he by chaunre did wander that same wav, 

Was taken w'ilh her lov'o, and by her closriy l.xy, 

XX, ITierc he this knight of her whom l>orne 

She, of his father, Marinell did name; 

And in a rocky c.avc, as wight forlornc, 

Long time she fostred up, nil he In'cam** 

A mighty man at armes, and mickle fame 
Did get through great adventun s by him donne; 

For never man he suffre^l by tliat same 
Rich strond to travcll, whereas he did wonne, 

But that he must do batUil w ith the Sc'a-nyrnphcs sonne. 

XXI. An hundred knights of honorable name 

He had sulxlew’d, and them his vass.ils made 
That through all Faerie lond his noble fame 
Now blazed was, anel fearc did all invade. 

That none durst passen through that perilous glade: 

And to advaunce his name and glory more, 

386 The Faerie Queene 

Her Sea-god syre she dearely did perswade 
T* endow her sonne with threasure and rich store 
Bove all the sonnes that were of earthly wombes yborc. 

XXII. The God did graiint his daughters deare demaund, 

To doen his Nephew in all riches flow ; 

Eftsoones his heaped waves he did commaund 
Out of their hollow bosome forth to throw 
All the huge threasure, which the sea below 
Had in his greedy gulfe devoured deepe, 

And him enriched through the overthrow 

And wreckes of many wrrt:ches, which did weepe 

And often wayle their wealth, which he from them did keepe. 

xxiii. Shortly upon that shore there heaped was 
Exceeding riches and all pretious things, 

The spoyle of all the world ; that it did pas 

The wealth of th’ East, and pompe of Persian kings: 

Gold, ambre, yvorie, pcrlcs, owches, rings, 

And all that els was pretious and deare. 

The sea unto him voluntary brings; 

That shortly he a great Lord did appeare. 

As was in all the lond of Faery, or else wheare. 

XXIV. Thereto he was a doughty dreaded knight, 

Tryde often to the scath of many Deare, 

That none in equall armes him matchen might: 

The which his mother seeing gan to feare 
Least his too haughtie hardines might reare 
Some hard mishap in hazard of his life. 

Forthy she oft him counseld to forbeare 
The bloody batteill and to stirre up strife, 

But after all his warre to rest his wearie knife. 

XXV. And, for his more assuraunce, she inquir’d 
One day of Proteus by his mighty spell 
(For Proteus was with prophecy inspir’d) 

Her deare sonnes destiny to her to tell. 

And tlie sad end of her sweet Marinell: 

Who, through foresight of his eternall skill, 

Bad her from womankind to keepe him well, 

For of a woman he should have much ill ; 

A virgin straunge and stout him should dismay or kill. 


Book III— Canto IV 

XXVI, Forthy she gave him warning every day 
The love of women not to entcrtainc; 

lesson too too hard for living chiv 
From tove in course of nature to rcfrainc. 

Yet he his mothers lore did well retainc, 

And ever from fayre Ladies love did ily; 

Yet many Ladies fayre did oft compla.'ne, 

That they for love of him would algates dy: 

Dy, w'ho so list for him, he was loves eniiny. 

XXVII. But ah! who can deceive his destiny. 

Or wcene by w'arning^o avoyd his fate.^ 

That, when he sleepes in most security 
And safest scemes, him soomst dotli am.itc, 

And findeth dew effect or s()t)ne f>r late ; 

So feeble is the powrc of fle.^hly arnie. 

His mother bad liim womens love to hate, 

For she of wonu.ns fon e did fcarc no harme; 

So, weening to have arm'd him, she did quite disarmc. 

XXVIII. Tliis was that woman, this that deadly wownd, 

Thiit Proteus prophecide should him dismay; 

The which his mother vaincly did expownd 
To be hart-wow'iiding love, whuh should a^'‘ciy 
To bring her sonne unto his l;v*t d-.cay. 

So tide lx; the termes of mortall state, 

And full of subtile sophisnv whicli doe play 
With double .senccs, and with fabe debate, 

T^ approve the unknowen purj)osc (d etcrnall fal^’. 

XXIX. Too trew tlu famous Marim 11 it hmmd, 

Who, through late triall, on that wi althy Slnmd 
Inglorious now lies in scncele.ssc .swownd, 

Through heavy stroke of Hritomarlis bond. 

Which when his motlu r deare did understond, 

And heavy tidings lx ard, whereas she playd 
Amongst her w^atry sisters by a j)onil. 

Gathering sweetc daffadillycs, to have marie 

Gay girlonds from the Sun their forheads fayr to shade; 

XXX. Eftesoones both flowres and girlonds far away 
Shee flong, and her fairc dcawy lockcs yrent; 

To sorrow huge she tumd her former play, 

388 The Faerie Queene 


And gamesom merth to grievous dreriment: 

Shee threw her selfe downe on the Continent, 

Ne word did speake, but lay as in a swowne. 

Whiles all her sisters did for her lament 
With yelling outcries, and with shrieking sowne; 

And every one did teare her girlond from her crowne. 

XXXI. Soone as shee up out of her deadly fitt 

Arose, shee bad her charett to be brought; 

And all her sisters that with her did sitt 
Bad eke attonce their charetts to be sought: 

Tho, full of bitter griefe and pensife thought. 

She to her wagon clombe ; clombe all the rest. 

And forth together went with sorrow fraught. 

'Fhe waves, obedient to theyr beheast, 

Them yielded ready passage, and their rage surceast. 

xxxji. Great Neptune stoode amazed at their sight, 

Whiles on his broad rownd backe they softly slid. 

And eke him selfe mournd at their mournful plight, 
Yet wist not what their wailing ment; yet did, 

For great compassion of their sorrow, bid 
His mighty waters to them buxome bee: 

Kftesoones the roaring billowes still abid, 

And all the griesly Monsters of the See 

Stood gaping at their gate, and wondred them to see. 

xxxiii. A teme of Dolphins raunged in aray 

Drew the smooth charett of sad Cy moent : 

They were all tiiught by Triton to obay 
To the long raynes at her commaundement : 

As swifte as swallowes on the waves they went. 

That their brode flaggy finnes no fome did reare, 

Ne bubling rowndcll they bchinde them sent. 

The rest, of other fishes drawen weare. 

Which w ith their finny oars the swelling sea did sheare. 

XXXiv. Soone as they bene arriv’d upon the brim 

Of the Rich Strond, their charets they forlore, 

And let their temed fishes softly swim 
Along the margent of the fomy shore. 

Least they their finnes should bruze, and surbate sore 
Their tender feete upon the stony grownd : 

Book III — Canto IV 389 

And comming to the place, where all in gore 
And cruddy blood enwallowed they fownd 
The lucklesse Marinell lying in deadly swownd, 

XXXV. His mother swowne<l thrisc, and the third time 
Could scarce recovered bt*e out of her jxiinc: 

Had she not bcene devoide of morUdl slime, 

Shee should not then have bene relyv d m»aine; 

But, soone as life recovered had the rainc, 

Shoe made so piteous mone and dcare wayment, 

That the hard rocks could sairse from tears refraine: 
And all her sister Nyjnphcs uilh one consent 
Supplide her sobbing breaches with sad complement. 

xxxvT. “ Dcare image of my selfo,’* (she sayd) “ that is 
The wretched sonne of wretched in»»lluT l>orne, 

Is this thine high advaiinrcmeni ? O! is this 

TIC immortall name, with which thc(‘, vet iiiil)orne, 

Thy Grandsirc Ncrens promist to adorne? 

Now lyest thou of life and honor reftc; 

Now lyest thou a lumpc of earth forlornc; 

Ne of thy late life memory is leftc, 

Ne can thy irrevocable desteny bee wefte. 

XXXVH. ** Fond Prot(Mis, father of falsi* j)roj)hcris! 

And they more fond that credit to thee give! 

Not this the worke of womans hand ywis. 

That so deepe wound through thcsi- dc.irc mcmlx-rs 

I feared love; but they that love doe live, 

But they that dye doe nether love nor hale: 

NatlClc.ssc to thee thy folly I forgive; 

And to my selfe, and to accursed fate, 

The guilt I doe ascribe: deare w isedorn bought too laic ! 

xxxvrii. ** O! what availcs it of immortall seed 

To beene ybredd and never borne to dye ? 

Farre better I it deeme to die with speed 
Tlicn waste in woe and waylfull miseryc: 

Who dyes, the utmost dolor doth abye; 

But who that lives is leftc to wailc his lossc: 

So life is losse, and death felicity: 

Sad life worse then glad death; and greater crossc 
To sec frends grave, then dead the grave self to engrosse. 

J 90 The Faerie Queene 

XXXIX. ** But if the heavens did his dayes envie. 

And my short blis maligne, yet mote they well 
Thus much afford me, ere that he did die, 

That the dim eies of my deare Marinell 
I mote have closed, and him bed farewell, 

Sith other offices for mother meet 
They would not graunt 

Yett, maulgre them, farewell, my sweetest sweet! 
Farewell, my sweetest sonne, sith we no more shall 

XL. Thus when they all had fiorowed their fill, 

They softly gan to search his griesly wownd ; 

And, that they might him handle more at will. 

They him disarmd ; ana, spredding on the grownd 
Their watchet mantles frindgd with silver rownd, 

They softly wipt away the gelly blood 
From th^ orifice; which having well upbownd, 

Tlicy pourd in soveraine balme and Nectar good, 

Good both for erthly med’eine and for hevenly food. 

XLi. Tho when the lilly handed Liagore 

(This Liagore whilome had learned skill 
In leaches craft, by great Apolloes lore, 

Sith her whilome upon high Pindus hill 
He loved, and at last her worn be did fill 
With hevenly seed, whereof wise Pscon sprong) 

T)id fecle his pulse, shee knew there staled still 
Some litle life his feeble sprites emong; 

Which to his mother told, despeyre she from her flong. 

XLii. Tlio, up him taking in their tender hands, 

They casely unto her charett beare : 

Her teme at her commaundement quiet stands, 

Whiles they the corse into her wagon reare, 

And strowe with flowres the lamentable beare. 

Then all the rest into their coches dim. 

And through the brackish waves their passage sheare; 
Upon great Neptunes necke they softly swim. 

And to her watry chamber swiftly carry him. 

XLTii. Deepe in the bottomc of the sea her bowrc 
Is built of hollow billowes heaped hye, 

Book III — Canto IV 391 

Like to thicke clouds that threat a stormy showr^, 
And vauted all within, like to the Skye, 

In which the Gods doe dwell eternally ; 

Tliere they him laide in easy coiicli well dighi, 

And sent in liaste for Tr>*phon, to apply 
Salves to his wounds, and medicines of mijxht ; 

For Trj^phon of sea gods the soveranv leach is hi^ht. 

XLiv. The whiles the Nymphes sitt all alx)ut him ruwnd, 
Lamenting his mishap and heavy plight ; 

And ofte his mother, vewing his with- wciwnd, 

Cursed the hand tli^t did so deadly sniiglit 
Her dearest sonne, her dearest harts delight: 

But none of all those curses overlooke 

The warlike Maide, th' ensiimplc of that might; 

But fairely well shoe thr\'vd, and well did hrockc 
Her noble deeds, ne her right course for ought lursoc»ke 

XLV. Yet did false Archimage her still purse w, 

To bring to passe his mischievous intent, 

Now that he had her single<i from the crew 
Of courteous knights, the Prince and l-aery gent, 
Whom late in cliace of l>eaijly excellent 
Slice lefte, pursewing that s^une fosier stnmg, 

Of whose fowlc outnige they impatient, 

And full of firy zele, him followed long, 

To reskew her from shame, and to revenge her wrong. 

XLVi. 'rhrough thick and thin, through mountains and 
through playns, 

Those two great champions did attf)iue |>ursew 
The fearcfull damzell with incess4int payns; 

W ho from them Hcd, as light-foot hare from vew 
Of hunter s\Nifte an<l scent of huwndt s trevv. 

At last they came unto a double way ; 

W^here, doubtfuil which to take, her to reskew, 
Themselves thev did dispart, each to as.s.iv 
W^hether more happy were to win so goodly jiray. 

XL VII. But Timias, the Princes gentle Squyre, 

That Ladies love unto his I>ord forlent, 

And with proud envy and indignant yre 
After that wicked foster fiercely went; 

392 The Faerie Queene 

So beene they three three sondry wayes ybent ; 

But fayrest fortune to the Prince befell, 

Whose chaunce it was, that sonne he did repent. 

To tiike that way in which that Damozell 
Was fledd afore, affraid of him as feend of hell. 

XLViii. At last of her far off he gained vew. 

Then gan he freshly pricke his fomy steed, 

And ever as he nigher to her drew, 

So evermore he did increase his speed. 

And of each turning still kept wary heed : 

Alowd to her he oftentinpes did call, 

To doe away vainc doubt and needlesse dreed : 

Full myld to her he spake, and oft let fall 

Many meckc wordcs to stay and comfort her withall. 

XLix. But nothing might relent her hasty flight, 

So deepe the deadly feare of that foule swaine 
Was earst impressed in her gentle spright. 

I.ike as a fearcfull Dove, which through the raine 
Of the wide ayre her way does cut amaine. 

Having farre off espyde a Tassell gent, 

Which after her his nimble winges doth straine, 
Doubleth her hast for feare to bee for hent, 

And with her pineons cleaves the liquid firmament. 

L. With no lessc hast, and eke with no lessc dreed. 

That fearefull Ladie fledd from him, that ment 
To her no evill thought nor evill deed ; 

Yet former feare of being fowly shent 
Carried her forward with her first intent: 

And though, oft looking backward, well she vewde 
Her sclfc freed from that foster insolent. 

Ami that it was a knight which now her sewde. 

Yet she no lessc the knight feard then that villein rude. 

LI. His uncouth shield and straunge armes her dismay d. 
Whose like in Faery lond were seldom scene. 

That fast she from him fledd, no lesse afrayd 
Then of wilde beastes if she had chased beene: 

Yet he her followd still with corage keene 
So long, that now the golden Hesperus 
Was mounted high in top of heaven shecne. 

Book III — Canto IV 


And wamd his other brethren joyeous 

To light their blessed hunps in Joves clernall hous. 

Lii. All suddeinly dim wox the dampish a\re. 

And griesly shadowes covereti heavi n bright, 

That now with thousand starres was divked fayie: 
Which when the Prince beheld, a lolhfull Mghl, 

And that perforce, for want of linger light. 

He mote surceassc his suit, and hisc the hope 
Of his long labour, he gan fowK wvte 
His wicked fortune that hail turnd a'-loj^e, 

And cursed night that celt fiom him so goodly scope. 

LIII. Tho, when her waves he coiikl no luurr ry, 

But to and fro at disavenluie stra\d; 

Like as a ship, whose Lodestar suddeinlv 
Covered with cloudcs her Pilott hath di^iua\d, 

His wearisome pursuit |)erforee lu .stavd. 

And from his loftie steed dismounting low 

Did let him forage. Downe himselle lie l.iyd 

Upon the grassN ground to slcepi* a throw 

The cold earth was lus com h. thc‘ hard st« t h his pillf»w. 

Liv. But gentle Sleepe env\de him iiny r<si. 

Tn stead thereof sad si^row and <hsdaine 
Of his hard haji did vexe his noi»le Ivn st, 

And thousand I 'am u s bett bis vdle bra\ ru‘ 

\\ ilh their light wings, the sights of ^emblants vairu*. 
Oft did he wish that\ taire h( <• 

His Laery Dueene, for whom he dal < omplaine, 

Or that his h'aery Qik« ne were sm li as -le e; 

And ever hast} Night he hlanud hitt( rhe. 

LV, “ Night! thou foiilc Mollu i of aniu^vaurue sad. 

Sister of hea\ le deatli, and nom-e of woe, 

Which wast begot in heaven, hut for lliv had 
And brutish shape thrust downe to hell lx low, 

Where, by the grim fluud of ( o( ytus slow, 

Thy dw'elling is in llerebus black hous, 

(Black Herehus, thy husband, is the foe 
Of all the Ciod>.) where thou ungratious 
Halfe of thy da} cs docst lead m horrour hideous. 






The Faerie Quccne 

“ What had th' eternall Maker need of thee 
The world in his continuall course to keepe. 

That doest all thinges deface, ne lettest see 
The beautie of his worke? Indeed, in sleepe 
The slouthfull body that doth love to steepe 
His lustlesse limbes, and drowne his baser mind. 

Doth praise thee oft, and oft from Stygian deepe 
Calles thee his goddesse, in his errour blind. 

And great Dame Natures handmaide chearing every 

** But well I wote, that to tn heavy hart 
Thou art the roote and nourse of bitter cares, 

Breeder of new, renewer of old smarts : 

Instead of rest thou lendest rayling teares ; 

Instead of sleepe thou sendest troublous feares 
And dreadfull visions, in the which alive 
The dreary image of sad death appearcs: 

So from the wearie spirit thou doest drive 
Desired rest, and men of happinesse deprive. 

Under thy mantle black there hidden lye 
Light-shonning thefte, and traiterous intent. 

Abhorred bloodshed, and vile felony, 

Shamefull deceipt, and daunger imminent, 

Fowle horror, and eke hellish dreriment: 

All these, I wote, in thy protection bee. 

And light doe shonne for feare of being shent; 

For light ylike is loth’d of them and thee; 

And all that lewdnesse love doe hate the light to see. 

“ For day discovers all dishonest wayes, 

And sheweth each thing as it is in deed : 

The prayses of high God he faire displayes 
And his large bountie rightly doth arced : 

Dayes dearest children be the blessed seed 
Which darknesse shall subdue and heaven win: 

Truth is his daughter; he her first did breed 
Most sacred virgin without spot of sinne. 

Our life is day, but death with darknesse doth begin. 

tx. “ O ! when will day then tume to me againe. 
And bring with him his long expected light? 

Book III— Canto IV 395 

0 Titan! hast to rearc thy joyous waine; 

Speed thee to sprcd abroad thy beanies bright, 

And chace away this too long lingring night; 

Chacc her away, from whence she came, to hell: 

She, she it is, that hath me done dcspight: 

There let her with the damned spirits dwell, 

And yield her rownie to day that can it guverne hcH." 

i,xi. Thus did the Prince that wearie night mitwcare 
In restlesse anguish and unquiet paine; 

And earcly, ere the morrow did upreare 
His deawy head out ofihe Ocean manic, 

He up arose, as halfe in great disdaiiie. 

And clombe unto his steed. So forth he went 
With heavy look and lumpish pace, that plamc 
In him bewraid great grudge and malialeiit. 

His steed eke seeiiid t’ apply his steps to his uitcnL 

396 The Faerie Queene 


Prince Arthur lieares of Florimcll: 

Three fosters Timias wound; 

Belphebe findes him almost dead, 

And reareth out of sovvnd. 

I. Wonder it is to see in diverse mindes 
How diversly love doth his pageaunts play. 

And shewes his powre in variable kindes : 

The baser wit, whose ydle thoughts alway 
Are wont to cleave unto the lowly clay, 

It stirreth up to sensuall desire, 

And in lewd slouth to wast his carelesse day; 

But in brave sprite it kindles goodly fire, 

That to all high desert and honour doth aspire. 

II. Ne sufTereth it uncomely idlenesse 

In his free thought to build her sluggish nest, 

Ne sufTereth it thought of ungen tlenesse 
Ever to creepe into his noble brest; 

But to the highest and the worthiest 
Lifteth it up that els would lowly fall: 

It lettes not fall, it lettes it not to rest; 

It lettes not scarse this Prince to breath at all, 

But to his first poursuit him forward still doth call. 

III. Who long time wandred through the forest wyde 
To findc some issue thence; till that at last 

He met a Dwarfe that seemed terrifyde 
With some late perill which he hardly past, 

Or other accident which him aghast ; 

Of whom he asked, whence he lately came, 

And whither now he travelled so fast? 

For sore he swat, and, ronning through that same 
Thicke forest, was bescracht and both his feet nigh lame. 

IV. Panting for breath, and almost out of hart. 

The Dwarfe him answerd; “ Sir, ill mote I stay 
To tell the same: I lately did depart 


Book III — Canto V 

From Faery court, where I ha\ c many a day 
Served a gentle Lady of great sway 
And high accompt through out all Klfin land, 

Who lately left the same, and tooke this wav. 

Her now I seeke; and if ye uiulerstaiul 
Which way she fared hath, gooii Sir, tell out of ham].” 

V. “ What mister wight,*’ (saidc he) ” and lu>w aravti.> 

“ Royally clad ” ((juoth he) “ in cloth .)f goKl, 

As nieetest may heseeme a noble mayil : 

Her faire lockes in rich circlet be enrold, 

A fayrer wight did never Sunne l><*hold ; 

And on a Palfrey rvdes more white then snow, 

Yet she her selfe is whiter manifold. 

The surest signe, whereby ye rnav h«T know, 

Is that she is the fairest wight alive, I trow.” 

VI. “ Now certes, swaine,*' (saide he) “ sin h one, I wrenc, 
Fast flying through this forest from lier fo, 

A foule ill-favoured foster, 1 have .scene: 

Her selfe, well as I might, I reskewd tho. 

But could not st^iy, so fast she did hiregoc, 

Carried away with wdngs of speedy h are.” 

‘‘ Ah, dearest God! ” (quoth he) ” that is great woe, 
And wondrous ruth to all that shall it heare: 

Rut ran ye read, Sir, how 1 may her finde, r»r wlwrc? ” 

vii. ** Perdy, me lever were to weeten that,” 

(Saide he) ” then ransomc of the richest knight, 

Or all the good that ever yet I gat : 

But froward fortune, and too forward Night, 

Such happinesse did, maulgre, to me spight. 

And fro me reft both life and light attone. 

But, Dw'arfc, arcad what is that I^dy bright 
That through this forest wandreth thus alone 
Forof hererrour straunge I have groat ruth and monc.’* 

vin, “ That Ladie is,” (quoth he) ” where .so she l>ce, 

The bounticst virgin and most dclwnaire 
That ever living eye, I weene, did see. 

Lives none this day that may with her compare 
In stedfast chastitie and vertue rare, 

The goodlv ornaments of beautie bright; 

398 The Faerie Queene 


And is ycleped Florimell the fayre, 

Faire Plorimell belov’d of many a knight. 

Yet she loves none but one, that Marinell is hight. 

IX. “ A Sea-nymphes sonne, that Marinell is hight, 

Of my deare Dame is loved dearely well ; 

In other none, but him, she sets delight ; 

All her delight is set on Marinell, 

But he sets nought at all by Florimell; 

For Ladies love his mother long ygoe 

Did him, they say, forwarne through sacred spell: 

But fame now flies, that of a forreine foe 

He is yslaine, which is the ground of all our woe. 

X. “ Five daies there be since he (they say) was slaine. 
And fowre since Florimell the Court forwent. 

And vowed never to returne againe, 

Till him alive or dead she did invent. 

Therefore, faire Sir, for love of knighthood gent, 

And honour of trew Ladies, if ye may 
By your good counsell, or bold hardimcnt. 

Or succour her, or me direct the way. 

Do one or other good, I you most humbly pray. 

XI. “ So may ye gaine to you full great renowme 
Of all good liidies through the worlde so wide, 

And haply in her hart finde highest rowme 

Of whom ye seeke to be most magnifide ; 

At least eternall meede shall you abide.” 

To whom the Prince: “ Dwarfe, comfort to thee take. 
For, till thou tidings leame what her betide, 

I here avow thee never to forsake. 

Ill wearcs he armes, that nill them use for Ladies sake.” 

XII. So with the Dwarfe he back retourn^d againe. 

To seeke his Lady where he mote her finde; 

But by the way he greatly gan complaine 
The want of his good Squire late lefte behinde. 

For whom he wondrous pensive grew in minde. 

For doubt of daunger which mote him betide; 

For him he loved above all mankinde, 

Having him trew and faithfull ever tride, 

And bold, as ever Squyre that waited by knights side: 


Book III — Canto V 

XIII. Who all this whDc full hardly was assayd 
Of deadly daunger, which to him In^tidd ; 

For, whiles his Lord pursewd that noble Mayd, 

After that foster fowle he fiercely ridd 
To bene avenged of the shame he did 
To that faire Damzell: Him he chaced long 
Through the thicke woods whercir he would luive hid 
His shamefull head from his avengement strong, 

And oft him threatned death for his outrageous wrong. 

XIV. Nathlessc the villein sped himselfe so well, 

Whether through swifthesse of his s[H‘edie beast, 

Or knowledge of those woods where he did tlwell, 

That shortly he from daunger was releasl, 

And out of sight escaped at the least: 

Yet not escaped from the (lew reward 
Of his bad deedes, which dailv he inrreast, 

Ne ceased not, till him oppressed hard 

The heavie plague that for such Icachours is prc|>ar(l. 

XV. For soone as he was vanishl out of sight, 

His coward courage gan emboldned bee, 

And cast t' avenge him of that fovUe despight 
Which he had borne of his lK)ld cnimee: 

Tho to his brethren came, for they were three 
Ungralious children of one gracelesse syre, 

And unto them romjdayned how that he 
Had used beenc of that foolehardie S»jnvrer 
So them with bitter words he stird to bloodic yrc. 

XVI. Forthwith themselves with their sad instruments 
Of spoyle and murder they gan armc bvlivc, 

And with him fourth into the forest went 

To wreake the wrath, which he did eanst revive 
In their steme brests, on him which late did drive 
Their brother to reproch and shamefull flight; 

For they had vow’d that never he alive 
Out of that forest should escape their might: 

Vile rancour their rude harts had fild with such despight. 

XVII. Within that wood there was a covert glade, 

Foreby a narrow foord, to them well knownc, 

Through which it was uneath for wight to wade; 

^oo The Faerie Queene 

And now by fortune it was overflowne. 

By that same way they knew that Squyre unknowne 
Mote algates passe; forthy themselves they set 
There in await with thicke woods overgrowne. 

And all the while their malice they did whet 

With cruell threats his passage through the ford to let. 

XVIII. It fortuned, as they devised had: 

The gentle Squyre came ryding that same way, 
Unweeting of their wile and treason bad, 

And through the ford to passen did assay; 

But that fierce foster, whicii late fled away. 

Stoutly foorth stepping on the further shore. 

Him boldly bad his passage there to stay, 

Till he had made amends, and full restore 
For all the damage which he had him doen afore. 

.\ix. With that at him a quiv’ring dart he threw. 

With so fell force, and villeinous despite. 

That through his haberjeon the forkehead flew. 

And through the linked mfiyles cmpierced quite. 

But had no powre in his soft flesh to bite. 

That stroke the hardy Squire did sore displease, 

But more that him he could not come to smite; 

For by no meanes the high banke he could sease. 

But labour’d long in that deepe ford with vaine disease 

XX. And still the foster with his long bore-speare 
Him kept from landing at his wished will. 

Anone one sent out of the thicket nearc 
A cruell shaft, headed with deadly ill, 

And fethered with an unlucky quill: 

The wicked steele stayd not till it did light 
In his left thigh, and deepely did it thrill: 

Exceeding griefe that wound in him empight, 

But more that with his foes he could not come to fight. 

xxi. At last, through wrath and vengeaunce making way. 
He on the bancke arryvd with mickle payne, 

Where the third brother him did sore assay, 

And drove at him with all his might and mayne 
A forest-bill, which both his hands did strayne; 

But warily he did avoide the blow, 

Book III — Canto 401 

And with his speare requited him ;q’ainc, 

That both his sides were thrilled with the throw. 

And a large streame of blood out of the wound did flow . 

XXII. He, tombling downe, w'ith gnashing teeth did bile 
The bitter earth, and bad to lett him in 
Into the balefull house of endlcs'^e niglu, 

Where wicked ghosts doe waile their former sin. 

Tho gan the batUiile freshly to begin ; 

For nathemore for that spectacle bad 

Did th’ other two their cruell vengeaunce blin, 

But both attonce on ^pth sides him besiad. 

And load upon him layd his life for to have had, 

XXIII. Tho when that villayn he uvi/‘d, wliit h late 
Affrighted had the fairest Floriniell. 

Full of fiers fury and indignant hate 
To him he turned, and with rigor fell 
Smote him so rudely on the Pannikell, 

That to the chin he rlefte his heail in twaine. 

Downe on the ground his carkas groveling fell: 

His sinfull sowle with desperate disdaine 

Out of her fleshly ferme fled to the j)laie of painc. 

XXIV. That seeing, now the only htst of three 

Who with that wicked shafte him wounded ha<l, 
Trembling with horror, as that flid foresee 
The fcarefull end of his avengement sad. 

Through which he follow should his brethren liad, 

His bootclessc how in feeble hanrl u|)eaught, 

And therewith .shott an arrow at the lad; 

Which, fayntly fluttering, scarce his helmet raught, 

And glauncing fcl to ground, but liiin annoyed naught. 

XXV. With that he would have fled into the wood; 

But Timias him lightly overhent. 

Right as he entring was into the flood, 

And strooke at him with force so violent, 

That headlesse him into the foord he sent. 

The carcas with the streame was carried downe. 

But th’ head fell backeward on the Continent; 

So mischief fel upon the mcaners rrowne. 

They three be dead with shame, the .Squire lives with 

402 The Faerie Queene 

XXVI. He lives, but takes small joy of his renowne; 

For of that cruell wound he bled so sore, 

That from his steed he fell in deadly swowne : 

Yet still the blood forth gusht in so great store, 

That he lay wallowd all in his owne gore. 

Now God thee keepe, thou gentlest squire alive, 

Els shall thy loving Lord thee see no more; 

But both of comfort him thou shalt deprive, 

And eke thy selfe of honor which thou didst atchive. 

XXVII. Providence hevenly passeth living thought. 

And doth for wretched mens reliefe make way; 

For loe ! great grace or fortune thither brought 
Comfort to him that comfortlesse now lay. 

In those same woods ye well remember may 
IIow that a noble hunteresse did wonne, 

Shee, that base Braggadochio did affray. 

And make him fast out of the forest ronne; 
Belphcebe was her name, as faire as Phoebus sunne. 

XXVIII. She on a day, as shee pursewd the chace 

Of some wilde beast, which with her arrowes keene 
She wounded had, the same along did trace 
By tract of blood, which she had freshly scene 
To have besprinckled all the grassy greene : 

By the great persue which she there perceav’d, 

Well hoped shee the beast engor’d had beene, 

And made more haste the life to have bereav’d; 

But ah! her expectation greatly was deceav’d. 

XXIX. Shortly she came whereas that wofull Squire, 

With blood deformed, lay in deadly swownd; 

In whose faire eyes, like lamps of quenched fire, 

The Christall humor stood congealed rownd ; 

His locks, like faded leaves fallen to grownd, 
Knotted with blood in bounches nidely ran; 

And his sweete lips, on which before that stownd 
The bud of youth to blossome faire began, 

Spoild of their rosy red were woxen pale and wan. 

XXX. Saw never living eie more heavy sight, 

That could have made a rocke of stone to rew, 

Or rive in twaine: which when that Lady bright. 


Book III — Canto V 

Besides all hope, with melting cies did vew, 

All suddeinly abasht shee chaimgod hew, 

And with sterne horror backward gan to start; 

But when shee better him beheld shee grew 
Full of soft pmssion and unwonted smart: 

The point of pity perced through her tender hart. 

XXXI. Meekely shee bowed downe, to weete if life 
Yett in his frosen members dui remaine; 

And, feeling by his pulses beating rife 

That the weake sowle her seat did yett retaine, 

She cast to conifort^him with biisie j>aine. 

His double folded necke she reard upright. 

And rubd his temples and each Irenilihng \aine; 

His mayled haberjeon she did undight, 

And from his head his heavy burganet did light 

XXXII. Into the woods thenceforth in haste shee went, 

To seeke for hearbes that mote him reniecK , 

For shee of herbes had great intenfliment, 

Taught of the Xymphe which from her infan(y 
Her nourced had in trew Nobility: 

There, whether yt divine Tobado wcr(‘, 

Or Panacha*a, or Pol>gonv, 

Shee fownd, and brought it to her patient dcare, 

Who al this while lay bleeding out his h.irtblood ncurc. 

XXXIII. The soverainc weede betwixt two marbles jilaine 
Shee pownded small, anrl did in |)eeres bru/e; 

And then atweene her lilly hanrl* s tw'amc 
Into his wound the juice thereof did scruze; 

And round about, as she could well it u/e. 

The flesh therewith shee suppled and did sterpe, 

T’ abate all spiisme, an<l soke the swelling bru/«:; 

And, after having searcht the intusc deepe, 

She with her scarf did bind the wound from cold to 

XXXIV. By this he had sweet life recur’d agayne, 

And, gronmg inly deepe, at last his eics, 

His watry eies drizhng like deawy rayne. 

He up gan hfte towanl the azure skies, 

From whence descend all hopcle.sse remedies; 
Therewith he sigh’d; and, turning him aside. 

404 The Faerie Queene 

The goodly Maide, ful of divinities 

And gifts of heavenly grace, he by him spide. 

Her bow and gilden quiver lying him beside. 

XXXV. “ Mercy, deare Lord ! ** (said he) “ what grace is this 
That thou hast shewed to me sinfull wight, 

To send thine Angell from her howre of blis 
To comfort me in my distressed plight. 

Angell, or Goddesse doe I call thee right 
What service may I doe unto thee meete. 

That hast from darkenes me returnd to light. 

And with thy hevenly s^Jves and medicines swecte 
Hast drest my sinfull wounds? I kisse thy blessed 

xxxvi. Thereat she blushing said ; ‘‘ Ah ! gentle Squire, 

Nor Goddesse I, nor Angell ; but the Mayd 
And daughter of a woody Nymphe, desire 
No service but thy safety and ayd; 

Which if thou gaine, I shal be well apayd. 

Wee mortall wights, whose lives and fortunes bee 
To commun accidents stil open layd, 

Are bownd with commun bond of frailtee, 

To succor wretched wights whom we captived sec.” 

XXX Vfi. By this her Damzells, which the former chace 
Had undertaken after her, arryv’d, 

As did Belphoebe, in the bloody place, 

And thereby deemd the beast had bene depriv’d 
Of life, whom late their ladies arrow ryv’d: 

For thy the bloody tract they folio wd fast. 

And every one to ronne the swiftest stryv’d; 

But two of them the rest far overpast, 

And where their Lady was arrived at the last, 

xxxviii. Where when they saw that goodly boy with blood 
Defowled, and their Lady dresse his wownd, 

They wondred much; and shortly understood 
How him in deadly cace theyr Lady fownd. 

And reskewed out of the heavy stownd. 

Eftsoones his warlike courser, which was strayd 
Farrc in the woodes whiles that he lay in swownd. 

She made those Damzels search; which being stayd. 
They did him set thereon, and forth with them convayd. 


Book III — Canto V 

XXXIX. Into that forest farre they thence him led, 

Where was their dwelling, in a pleasant glade 
With mountaincs rownd about environed, 

And mightie woodes which <lul the vallev shade 
And like a stately Theatre it made. 

Spreading it selfe into a spatioiis plainc: 

And in the midst a little river plaiile 
Emongst the pumy stones, which seemd to plaine 
W ith gentle murmure that his cours thev clul restraine. 

XL. Beside the same a dainty place there lay, 

Planted with mirtle |recs and lanrells greene. 

In which the birds song many a lovt Iv lay 
Of Gods high praise, and of their loves sweet t*‘* ne, 

As it an earthly Paradize had l>cein*: 

In whose enclosed shadow there was pight 
A faire Pavilion, scarcely to lK*e scene. 

The which was al within most richlv flight. 

That greatest Princes liking it mote well delight. 

XLI. Thither they brought that wounded St|uyr(‘, and layd 
In easie couch his feeble limlKs to rest. 

He rested him awhile; and then the Mayd 
His roadie wound with In tler salves new drest : 

Daily she dressed him, and did the lK*st 
His grievous hurt to gnarish, that she might, 
lliat .sluirtly she his dolour hath re<]rrst, 

And his foule sore reduced to faire plight: 

It she reduced, hut himselfe destroyed «juight. 

XLII. O foolish physick, and unfruitfull pame, 

That heales up one, and makes another wound ! 

She his hurt thigh to him rcrurd againe, 

But hurt his hart, the which lx:fore was sound, 
'Fhrough an unw'ary dart, which dnJ rclniwnd 
From her faire eyes and gratious counlt nauncc. 

What lx)otes it him from death to Ixi unlx»wnd, 

To be captived in cndlesse duraunce 
Of sorrow and de.sf)cyre without aleggeauncc! 

XLiii. Still as his wound did gather, and grow hole, 

So still his hart woxe sore, and health dccayd: 
Madnesse to save a part, and lose the whole ! 


4o 6 The Faerie Queene 

‘ Still whenas he beheld the heavenly Mayd, 

Whiles dayly playsters to his wownd she layd, 

So still his Malady the more increast. 

The whiles her matchlesse beautie him dismayd^ 

Ah God I what other could he do at least, 

But love so fayre a Lady that his life releast ? 

XLiv. Long while he strove in his corageous brest 
With reason dew the passion to subdew, 

And love for to dislodge out of his nest: 

Still when her excellencies he did vew. 

Her soveraine bountie afid celestiall hew, 

The same to love he strongly was constraynd ; 

But when his meane estate he did revew. 

He from such hardy boldnesse was rcstraynd, 

And of his lucklessc lott and cruell love thus playnd: 

XLV. ** Unthankfull wretch,*^ (said he) “ is this the meed. 
With which her soverain mercy thou doest quight? 
Thy life she saved by her gratious deed ; 

But thou doest weene with villeinous despight 
To blott her honour, and her heavenly light. 

Dye rather, dye, then so disloyally 
Deeme of her high desert, or seeme so light: 

Fayre death it is, to shonne more shame, to dy: 

Dye rather, dy, then ever love disloyally. 

XLVi. “ But if to love disloyalty it bee, 

Shall I then hate her that from deathes dore 
Me brought ? ah, farre be such reproch fro mec ! 

What can I lesse doe then her love therefore, 

Sith I her dew reward cannot restore ? 

Dye rather, dye, and dying doe her serve; 

Dying her serve, and living her adore ; 

Thy life she gave, thy Ufe she doth deserve: 

Dye rather, dye, then ever from her service swervc. 

XLVII. ** But, foolish boy, what bootes thy service bace 
To her to whom the hevens doe serve and sew? 

Thou, a meane Squyre of mecke and lowly place; 
She, hcvenly borne and of celestiall hew. 

How then? of all love taketh equall vew; 

And doth not highest God vouchsafe to take 

Book III — Canto V 4 


The love and service of the basest crew ? 

If she will not, dye meekly for her sake: 

Dye rather, dye, then ever so faire love forsake! 

XLViii. Thus warreid he long time against his will; 

Till that through weaknesse he was forst at last 
To yield himselfe unto tlie mightie ill, 

Which, as a victour proud, gan ransack fast 
His inward partes, and all his entniyles wiist, 

That neither blood in face nor life in liart 
It left, but both did quite drye up and blast; 

As percing levin, which the inner part 
Of every thing consumes, and calrineth by art. 

XLix. Which seeing fayre Belphoebe gan to fcare, 

Least that his wound w'cre inly well not heald. 

Or that the wicked stcele empoysned were : 

Litle shee weend that love he close conceald. 

Yet still he wasted, as tha snow congeakl 

When the bright sunne his lx\ams tlu ron doth beat 

Yet never he his hart to her reveald ; 

But rather chose to dye for sorow great, 

Then with dishonorable termes her to entreat. 

L. She, gracious Lady, yet no paines <lid spare 
To doe him case, or doc him remedy. 

Many Restoratives of vcrtucs rare, 

And costly ('ordialles she did apply, 

'I’o mitigate his stubbornc malady: 

But that sweet Cordiall, which can restore 
A lovc-sick hart, she did to him envy; 

To him, and to all th’ unworlhv world ff»rlorc 
She did envy that soveraine salve in secret store 

LI. That daintie Rose, the daughter of her Mornc, 

More deare then life she tendered, w'hose flowrc 
The girlond of her honour did adornc: 

Nc suffred she the Middayes scorching powre, 

Nc the sharp Northerne wdnd thereon to showre; 
But lappt'd up her silken leaves m(»st chayre, 

When so the froward skyc began to lowre ; 

But, soone as calmed was the christall a)Te, 

She did it fayre dispred and let to florish fayre. 

4o 8 The Faerie Queene 

LU. Etemall God, in his almightie powre, 

To make ensample of his heavenly grace, 

In Paradize whylome did plant this flowre ; 

Whence he it fetcht out of her native place, 

And did in stocke of earthly flesh enrace, 

That mortall men her glory should admyre. 

In gentle Ladies breste and bounteous race 
Of woman kind it fayrest Flowre doth spyre, 

And beareth fruit of honour and all chast desyre. 

ijii. Fayre ympes of hcautic, whose bright shining beames 
Adorne the world with Iike*to heavenly light, 

And to your willes both royalties and Reames 
Subdew, through conquest of your wondrous might, 
With this fayre flowre your goodly girlonds dight 
Of chastity and vertue virginall, 

That shall embellish more your beautie bright, 

And crowne your heades with heavenly coronall, 

Such as the Angels weare before Gods tribunall ! 

Liv. To your faire selves a faire ensample frame 
Of this faire virgin, this Belphebe fayre; 

To whom, in perfect love and spotlesse fame 
Of chastitie, none living may compayre: 

Ne poysnous Envy justly can empayre 
The praysc of her fresh flowring Maydenhead ; 

Forthy she standeth on the highest stay re 
Of th' honorable stage of womanhead, 

That Ladies all may follow her ensample dead. 

LV. In so great prayse of stedfast chastity 
Nathlesse she was so courteous and kyndc, 

Tempred with grace and goodly modesty, 

That seemed those two vertucs strove to fynd 
The higher place in her Heroick mynd : 

So striving each did other more augment, 

And both encreast the prayse of woman kynde, 

And both encreast her beautie excellent: 

So all did make in her a perfect complement. 

Book III — Canto VI 



The birth of fayrr Belphcpbc and 
Of Amorett is told: 

The Gardiiis of Ad<'nis franglit 
With pleasures manifold 

I. Well may I wccne, faire all this while 

Ye wonder how thi% noble Damo/i ll 

So great perfections did in her compile, 

Sith that in salvage forests she did dwell, 

So farre from court and rox all (‘itadt ll. 

The great schoolmaistresse of all courtesv : 
Seemeth that such wildc woodes shouUl lar exptll 
All civile usage and gentihtv, 

And gentle sprite deformc with rude rustic ity. 

II. But to this faire Belphcelx* in her berth 
The hevens so favomlde were and free. 

Looking with myld aspect upon the earth 
In th’ Iforoscoj)e of her nativil<*e, 

That all the gifts of grace and < hastitee 
On her they poured forth of plenteous home: 
Jove laught on Venus from his so\erayn<- see. 
And PhfJL'bus with faire beames did her ad»)rne. 
And all the Graces rockt her « radle l>. iul^ liorne. 

III. Her berth w'as of the wombe* (if M(»rning dew, 

' And her conception of the joy^ais Prime; 

And all her whole creation did her shew 
Pure and unspotted from all loathly crime 
That is ingeneratc in fleshly shme. 

So was this virgin borne, S(> was she brecl ; 

So was she trayned up from lime t(> time 
In all iliaste virtue and true bounti-hed, 

Till to her dew perfection she were; rijjcrud. 

IV. Her mother was the faire C'hrysogonee, 
The daughter of Amphisa, who by race 
A Faerie was, ybornc of high dc*grcc. 

410 The Faerie Queene 


‘ She bore Belphoebe; she bore in like cace 
Fayre Amoretta in the second place : 

These t\ro were twinnes, and twixt them two did share 
The heritage of all celestiall grace; 

That all the rest it seemd they robbed bare 
Of bounty, and of beautie, and all vertues rare. 

V. It were a goodly storie to declare 

By what straunge accident faire Chrysogone 
Conceiv’d these infants, and how them she bare 
In this wilde forrest wandring all alone, 

After she had nine monetha fulfild and gone : 

For not as other wemens commune brood 
They were enwombed in the sacred throne 
Of her chaste bodie; nor with commune food, 

As other wemens babes, they sucked vitall blood : 

vr. But wondrously they were begot and bred 
Through influence of th’ hevens fruitfull ray. 

As it in antique hookes is mentioned. 

It was upon a Sommers shinie day, 

When Titan faire his beames did display. 

In a fresh fountaine, far from all mens vew, 

She bath’d her brest the boyling heat t’ allay; 

She bath’d with roses red and violets blew. 

And all the sweetest flowers that in the forrest grew; 

VII. Till faint through yrksome wearines, adowne 
Upon the grassy ground her selfe she layd 

To slecpe, the whiles a gentle slombring swowne 
Upon her fell, all naked bare displayd. 

The sunbeames bright upon her body playd. 

Being through former bathing mollifide, 

And pierst into her wombe, where they embayd 
With so sweete sence and secret powre unspide. 

That in her pregnant flesh they shortly fructifide. 

VIII. Miraculous may seeme to him that readcs 
So straunge ensample of conception ; 

But reason teacheth that the fruitfull seades 
Of all things living, through impression 
Of the sunbeames in moyst complexion, 

Doe life conceive and quickned are by kynd : 


Book III — Canto VI 

So, after Nilus inundation, 

Infinite shapes of creatures men doe fynd 
Informed in the mud on which the Siinne hath shynd. 

IX. Great father he of generation 

Is rightly cald, th* authour of life and light; 

And his faire sister for creation 
Ministreth matter fit, which, tcniprcd rii^ht 
With heate and humour, l)rcedes the living wight. 

So sprong these twinnes in womh of ( hrvsogoiic; 

Yet wist she nought thereof, hut sore affright, 

Wondred to see her belly %o uphlone. 

Which still increast till site her terme had full outgone. 

X. Whereof conceiving shame and fonle disgrace, 

Albe her guiltlesse conscience her cleard, 

She fled into the wildernesse a spaie, 

Till that unwceldy burden she had reard, 

And shund dishonor which as death she feard: 

Where, wearie of long traveill, downe to rest 
Her sclfe she set, and comfortably cheard: 

There a sad cloud of slcepe her overkest , 

And seized every sence with sorrow sore opf>rest, 

XI. It fortuned, faire Venus having lost 

Her little sonne, the winge<l god of love, 

Who, for some light displeasure which him crost 
Was from her fled as flit as ayery Dove, 

And left her blisfull bowre of joy above: 

(So from her often he had fl(*d awav, 

When she for ought him sharpely did reprove, 

And wand red in the world in slraunge ar.iv, 

Disguiz’d in thousand shai)e.s, that none might him bewray.) 

XII. Him for to sceke, she left her h('a\cnly hous, 

The house of goodly formes and faire aspiM l, 

Whence all the worUi derives the glorious 
Features of beau tie, and all shapes select. 

With which high God his workmanship hath deckt; 

And searched everie way through which his wings 
Had borne him, or his tract she mote detect: 

She promist kisses sweet, and sweeter things. 

Unto the man that of him ty dings to her brings. 

412 The Faerie Queene 

XIII. First she him sought in Court, where most he us’d 
Whylome to haunt, but there she found him not; 

But many there she found which sore accus’d 
His falsliood, and with fowle infamous blot 

His cruell dcedcs and wicked w^des did sp)Ot: 

Toadies and Lordes she everywhere mote heare 

Complayning, how with his empoysned shot 

Their wofull harts he wounded had whyleare 

And so had left them languishing twixt hope and fcare. 

XIV. She then the Cities sought from gate to gate. 

And everie one did askc, dKl he him see.? 

And everie one her answerd, that too late 
He had him seene, and felt the cruel tec 

Of his sharpe dartes and whot artilleree: 

And every one threw forth reproches rife 
Of his mischievous deedes, and sayd that hee 
Was the disturber of all civill life, 

The enimy of peace, and authour of all strife. 

XV. 'fhen in the countrey she abroad him sought, 

And in the rurall cottages inquir'd; 

Where also many plaintcs to her were brought, 

How he their hecdelesse harts with love had fir’d. 

And his false venim through their veines inspir’d: 

And eke the gentle Shepheard sw.iynes, which sat 
Keeping their fleecy flockes as they were hyr’d. 

She sweetly heard complaine, both how and what 
Her sonne had to them docn; yet she did smile thereat. 

XVI. But when in none of all these she him got. 

She gan avize where els he mote him hyde: 

At last she her bethought that she had not 
Yet sought the salvage woods and forests wyde, 

In which full many lovely Nymphes abyde ; 

Mongst whom might be that he did closely lye, 

Or that the love of some of them him tyde; 

Forthy she thither cast her course t’ apply. 

To search the secret haunts of Dianes company. 

XVII, Shortly unto the w'astcfull woods she came. 

Whereas she found the Goddesse with her crew. 

After late chace of their embrewed game. 


Book III — Canto VI 

Sitting beside a fountaine in a rew ; 

Some of them washing with the liquid dew 
From oflF their dainty limbs the dusty sweat 
And soyle, which did deforme their lively hew; 

Others lay shaded from the scorching heat, 

Tlie rest upon her person ga\e attendance great. 

XVIII. She, having hong upon a bough on high 
Her bow and painted quiver, had iinl.istc 
Her silver buskins from her nimble thigh, 

And her lanck loynes ungirt, and brests unbr.isle, 

After her heat the breathing cold to taste: 

Her golden lockcs, that late in tresses briidit 
Embrcaded were for hindnng of her haste, 

Now loose about her shoulders hong undighi. 

And were with sweet Ambrosia all bes|»rinekled light. 

XIX. Soone as she Venus saw behinde her bat ke, 

She was asham'd to be .so loose sur[)ri//d : 

And woxe halfe wroth against her d.itnzcls slaeke, 

That had not her thereof before aviz’d, 

Hut suflfred her so carelessly di.sgui/.M 
lie overtaken. Soone her garments loDse 
UpgathVing, in her bosome she C()m])riz*d 
Well as she might, and to the Goddesse rose; 

Whiles all her Nymphes did like a girlond her enclose. 

XX. Goodly she gan faire C’vtherea greet, 

And shortly asked her, what cause her brought 
Into that wilderncssc for her unmt*et, 

From her sNYccte bow res, and beds w ith jih^asures fraught ? 
That suddein chaunge she slraungc adventure thought. 
To w'hom halfe weeping she thus answered; 

That she her dearest sonne Cupido .sought. 

Who in his frowardnes from her was fled. 

That she repented sore to have him angered. 

XXI. Thereat Diana gan to smile, in scorne 

Of her vaine playnt, and to her scoffing sayd: 

“ Great pitty sure that ye be so forlornc 
Of your gay sonne, that gives ye so goo<l ayd 
To your disports: ill mote ye bene apayd.’* 

But she was more engrieved, and rcplidc; 

^14 The Faerie Queene 

“ /‘airo sislcr, ill Ix^secmes it to iipbrayd 
A (JulrfuJI heart with so disdainfull pride: 

The like that mine may l)e your paine another tide. 

x\ii. “ A^ you in woods and w'anton wilderncsse 
srtt to rhdce the salvage beasts^ 

So 111} (Itdifrht IS all in joyrulnesse, 

In bed'., in bowres, in baiK kels, and in feasts: 

An(\ i\l \)C( nines you, with your loity creasts, 
do scorin' the jo\ that [ove is glad to seckc: 

W'e both are bound to follow heavens bcheasts. 

And tend our (barges with obeisaiince rneeke. 

S|)<ire, gentle sister, with reproch rny jxiine to eeke; 

will. “ And tell me, if that ye my sonne have heard 
'bo Inrke einongst \our Nnnjilies in secret wi/e^ 

Or keepe their cabins, much I am afftvird 
be«ist he like oiK* of them him selfe disgiii/(‘, 

AikI tnrne liis arrowes to llieii exeri i/e. 

So m.iy he Ion;: him full easie Inde, 

Imr he is faire and fresh m fat e and gui/e 
As any \iinphe, (h t not it be iui\ ide ") 

So sa\ ing, every Niinph full narrowly shee (ude. 

wiv. Ikit riicebe tlierewilh sore was angered, 

And sharj)l\ saidc “ (loe, Oaiiu*: goe, seeke your boy, 
Where \ nil him lately leftt', in Mars his bed: 
lie tomes not here, we st orne his foolish joy, 

Ne lend we leisure tt) his itlle toy^. 

Ihit il I cat( h him m this toinpanv, 

lU’ St\ lake I \ ow , whtist* sad annt)V 

'The (iods tloe tlieatl, he ticariy shall abve. 

lie clip Ills wanton wings, that he no more shall Hy’e.’^ 

x\v Whom whenas \ enus saw st) st)re displiastl, 

Shee inlv soiy was, anti gan rek'nt 

What slice h.iti said, so hei sht* soonc appeasd 

With sugred wtiids ainl gi'iille blaruhshnu nt , 

\\ huh as a hiunlaine trom her sweeie hp^ wtuU. 

And welletl goodly* torth, that in ^hort spate 
She wa^ wt ll pleastl, and forth lu r dam/ells sent 
'rhit)ugh all the wot>tK. to search lrt)m [)lace to place, 
Jf any tract ol him or tidings they mote trace. 


Book III— Canto \'I 

XKvi. To search the (loil ot love her Xini'lies sIk 

ThrouLzhout the waiulrini: foie^t i\ir\ \\hrn“ 

And alter tliern her selte eke uilh lu r \seiu 
'I’o seeke the tupilive holh farri' and iu‘*^e 
So loniz tliey sooL’ht, tiU the\ airncd wire 
In that same '^hai}\ »o\t:i whtna^ 1 i\ 
h'aire (Vyso^one in si<»nilti\ tiaiimt whilcie; 

Who in her sleept (a unnilmi's iijin : tv ^a\ ) 

Vn\Nares had l^oi ol luo halu > as tan a > -pi incinu' i!a\ 

XXVII. Un\N .ires she thmi « vn(“ei\ 1 1, iiiun aif n ^ 'u ; w a e 
She bore uilhonttii ^aine, ih.ii -In « ••in t w d 
\\ ithoiilen pleasure, ne lu r neetl nnpuae 
laiciriaes aide u hu h \\ lien t la \ 1 a >1 h p<‘n «'i\ d. 
d'hev \Nt'r«‘ throiieh wonder ni h ut st m , I,- ii \ M, 

And ca/iiiL; eat h on other nouLlil l>« ■'pake 
At last thev l)oth .lizret'd h(*r set innn , i n \ d 
Out ot her hea\ i<‘ swowne not to awak< 

Hut fiom her lo\ ini: side th< tender b.ihes to i il.e 

XXVIII. I p thev them to<»ke, < .u h oru a I'oIm uptovl.i 
And with thtnn < .arried to he to t» t< d 
I )ame I di< i he to a \ . mphe in i i > il •« ht tt)oke 
To 1 u- hro .'jilt up in pMh(t M.ivdinlied. 

And, ot lit I s. lie le r nam* 1*' loho h»‘ r- d 
Ihit \ eniis heis ihera l tar awa% ti»n\a\d. 
d'o he upl TO' I'dit m poodlv oni.i’da d 
And, m her litK lo\ < n ^tead, wha h -uiaN 
Her Amort Ita < a 1<1. l'> t '> 1-1 tort la i da-ni.»'> <l 

XXIX Shee hron;jl 1 1 la r to la r io \ ojs P.n : i/« , 

\\ her mo^t >\n w.»nra s wla n she on • arlh do< , dwf il . 

So fane a plat e a'. Xaturt i an dt \ :/i 

\\ hethei in i'ajila;'., or ( \ tla ion h i 

Or It in (imdiis ht* , 1 wtH« lait W( 11 

Hut well I wolf h\ triall, that thl^ 

.\11 other pit a-aunt jiiat • doth ext < 11. 

.\nd t allt d I' h\ t.'T lo^t lo \ < r ’ n.uiif 

The Oardin tjf .Xd'Jin-. renow mtl h. fan.e 

XXX. In that s.unt (lartiin all tla 'jimiUi-v .. 

Wherewitlt tlame .Xalur*- (]oih tar Ne.i ti. , 

And dt t-ks the pirltjiais of her Ikiraojo 

4,1 6 The Faerie Queene 

Are fetcht: there is the first seminary 
Of all things that are borne to live and dye, 

According to their kynds. Long worke it were 

Here to account the endlesse progeny 

Of all the weeds that bud and blossome there; 

But so much as doth need must needs be counted he rc 

XXXI. It sited was in fruitfull soyle of old, 

And girt in with two walls on either side; 

The one of yron, the other of bright gold, 

That none might thorough breake, nor overstride : 
And double gates it had#»which opened wide, 

By which both in and out men moten pas : 

Th* one faire and fresh, the other old and dride. 

Old Genius the porter of them was, 

Old Genius, the which a double nature has. 

xxxii. He letteth in, he letteth out to wend 
All that to come into the world desire: 

A thousand thousand naked babes attend 
About him day and night, which doe require 
That he with fleshly weeds would them attire: 

Such as him list, such as eternall fate 
Ordained hath, he clothes with sinfull mire, 

And sendeth forth to live in mortall state, 

Till they agayn returne backe by the hinder gate. 

XXXII I. After that they againe retourned beene, 

They in that Gardin planted bee agayne, 

And grow afresh, as they had never secne 
Tlcshly corruption, nor mortall payne. 

Some thousand yeares so docn they there remayne. 
And then of him are clad with other hew, 

Or sent into the chaungefull world agayne. 

Till thither they rctournc where first they grew: 

So, like a wheele, arownd they ronne from old to ne\^ 

XXXIV. Ne needs there Gardiner to sett or sow, 

To plant or prune ; for of their owne accord 
All things, as they created were, doe grow, 

And yet remember well the mighty word 
Which first was spoken by th' Almighty Lord, 

That bad them to increase and multiply: 


Book III— Canto VI 

Ne doe they need with water of the ford. 

Or of the clouds, to moystcn their roots dry ; 

For in themselves eternall moisture they imply. 

XXXV. Infinite shapes of creatures there are bred, 

And uncouth formes, which none yet ever knew : 

And every sort is in a sondry bed 
Sett by it sclfc, and ranckt in contely row; 

Some fitt for reasonable sowles t’ indew ; 

Some made for beasts, some made for birds to wcarc ; 
And all the fruitfull spawne of fishes hew 
In cndlesse rancks alj^ng enraunged were, 

That seemd the Ocean could not containe them there. 

XXXVI. Daily they grow, and daily forth are sent 
Into the world, it to replenish more ; 

Yet is the stocke not lessened nor spent, 

But still remaines in everlasting store, 

As it at first created was of yore : 

For in the wide wombe of the world there lyes, 

In hateful darknes and in deepe horrore. 

An huge eternall Chaos, which supplycs 
The substaunces of natures fruitful progenyis. 

xxxvii. All things from thence doe their first lK*ing fetch. 

And borrow matter whereof they are made ; 

Which, whenas forme and fi ature it does ketch, 
Becomes a body, and doth then invade 
The state of life out of the griesly shade. 

That substaunce is eterne, and bideth so; 

Ne when the life decayes and forme docs fade, 

Doth it consume and into nothing goe, 

But chaunged is, and often allred to and froc. 

XXXVIII. The substaunce is not chaungd nor altered, 

But th’ only forme and outward fashion; 

For every substaunce is conditioned 
To chaunge her hew, and sondry formes to don. 

Meet for her temper and complexion; 

For formes are variable, and decay 
By course of kinde and by occasion; 

And that faire flowre of bcautie fades away, 

As doth the lilly fresh before the sunny ray. 

41 8 The Faerie Queene 

jCxxix. Great enimy to it, and to all the rest 
That in the Gardin of Adonis springs, 

Is wicked Tyme ; who with his scy th addrest 
Does mow the flowring herbes and goodly things, 
And all their glory to the ground downe flings. 
Where they do wither, and are fowly mard : 

He flyes about, and with his flaggy winges 
Beates downe both leaves and buds without regard, 
Ne ever pi tty may relent his malice hard. 

XL. Yet pitty often did the gods relent. 

To see so faire thinges rpard and spoiled quight; 
And their great mother Venus did lament 
The losse of her deare brood, her deare delight: 

Her hart was pierst with pitty at the sight. 

When walking through the Gardin them she saw, 
Yet no’te she find redresse for such despight: 

For all that lives is subject to that law; 

All things decay in time, and to their end doe draw. 

XLi. But were it not that Time their troubler is. 

All that in this delightfull Gardin growes 
Should happy bee, and have immortall blis: 

For here all plenty and all pleasure flowes; 

And sweete love gentle fitts emongst them throwes, 
Without fell rancor or fond gealosy. 

Franckly each Paramor his leman knowes, 

Each bird his mate; ne any does envy 
Their goodly meriment and gay felicity. 

XLii. Tliere is continuall Spring, and harvest there 
Continuall, both meeting at one tyme; 

For both the boughes doe laughing blossoms beare, 
And with fresh colours decke the wanton Pryme, 
And eke attonce the heavy trees they clyme, 

Which seeme to labour under their fruites lode: 

The whiles the joyous birdes make their pas tyme 
Emongst the shady leaves, their sweet abode, 

And their trew loves without suspition tell abrodc. 

XLiii. Right in the middest of that Paradise 

There stood a stately Mount, on whose round top 
A gloomy grove of mirtle trees did rise, 


Book III— Canto VI 


Whose shady boughes sharp steele did never lop, 

Nor wicked bcastcs their tender buds did crop, 

But like a girlond compassed the hight; 

And from their fruitfull sydes sweet gum did drop, 
That all the ground, with pretious deaw l)edight. 
Threw forth most dainty odours and most sweet delight. 

xLiv. And in the thickest covert of that shade 
There was a pleasaunt Arber, not by art 
But of the trees owne inclination made, 

Which knitting their rancke braunehes, part to part. 
With wanton yvie twiryc entrayld athwart, 

And Eglantine and Caprifole emong, 

Fashiond above within their inmost part, 

That nether Phoebus beams could througli them throng, 
Nor Aeolus sharp blast could worke them any wrong. 

XLV. And all about grew every sort of flowre, 

To which sad lovers were transformde of yore; 

Fresh Ilyacinthus, Phoebus paramoure 
And dearest love ; 

Foolish Narcisse, that likes the w^atry shore; 

Sad Amaranthus, made a flowre but late, 

Sad Amaranthus, in whose purple gore 
Me seemes I sec Amintas wTetched fate, 

To whom sweete Poets verse hath given endlcssc date. 

XLVi. There wont fayre Venus often to enjoy 
Her deare Adonis joyous company, 

And reape sweet pleasure of the wanton lx)y: 

There yet, some say, in secret he d(x*s ly, 

Lapped in flowres and pretious s[)ycery. 

By her hid from the world, and from the skill 
Of Stygian Gods, which doe her love envy ; 

But she her selfe, when ever that she w ill, 

Possesseth him, and of his sweetnesse takes her fill. 

XLVii. And sooth, it seemes, they say ; for he may not 
For ever dye, and ever buried Ix'c 
In balefull night, where all thinge.« arc forgot: 

All be he subject to mortalitie, 

Yet is eterne in mutabilitie, 

And by succession made perpetuall, 

420 The Faerie Queene 


** Transformed oft, and chaunged diverslie; 

For him the Father of all formes they call: 

Therfore needs mote he live, that living gives to all. 

xi.viii. There now he liveth in eternall blis. 

Joying his goddesse, and of her enjoyd; 

Ne fearcth he henceforth that foe of his. 

Which with his cruell tuske him deadly cloyd: 

For that wilde Bore, the which him once annoyd, 

She firmely hath em prisoned for ay, 

That her sweet love his malice mote avoyd, 

In a strong rocky Cave, wjiich is, they say, 

Hewen underneath that Mount, that none him loscn may. 

XLix. 'Flierc now he lives in everlasting joy, 

With many of the Gods in company 

Which thither haunt, and with the winged boy, 

Sporting him selfe in safe felicity: 

Who when he hath with spoiles and cruelty 
Ransack t the world, and in the wofull harts 
Of many wretches set his triumphes hye. 

Thither resortes, and, laying his sad dartes 
Asyde, with faire Adonis playes his wanton partes. 

L. And his trew love faire Psyche with him playes, 

Fayre Psyche to him lately reconcyld. 

After long troubles and unmeet upbrayes 
With which his mother Venus her revyld. 

And eke himselfe her cruelly exyld: 

But now in stedfast love and happy state 
She with him lives, and hath him borne a chyld. 
Pleasure, that doth both gods and men aggrate, 

Pleasure, the daughter of Cupid and Psyche late. 

Li. Hither great Venus brought this infant fayre 
The yonger daughter of Chrysogonee, 

And unto Psyche with great trust and care 
Committed her, y fostered to bee 
And trained up in trew fcminitec : 

Who no lesse carefully her tendered 

Then her owne daughter Pleasure, to whom shee 

Made her companion, and her lessoned 

In all the lore of love, and goodly womanhead. 


Book III— Canto VI 


Lii. In which when she to perfect ripenes grew, 

Of grace and beautie noble Paragonc, 

She brought her forth into the worldcs vew, 

To be th’ ensample of true love alone. 

And Lodestarre of all chaste affection 
To all fayre Ladies that doc live on giownd. 

To Faery court she came; where many one 
Admyrd her goodly haveour, and fownd 
His feeble hart wide launched with loves cruel wownd. 

Liii. But she to none of them her love did cast, 

Save to the noble kniglU Sir Scudamore, 

To whom her loving hart she linked fast 
In faithfull love, t’ abide for evermore; 

And for his dearest sake endured sore 
Sore trouble of an hainous enimy, 

Who her would forced have to have forlorc 
Her former love and stedfast loialty, 

As ye may elswhere reade that rucfiill history. 

Liv. But well I ween?, ye first desire to learne 
What end unto that fearcfull Damozcll, 

Which fiedd so fast from that same foster steal nc 
Whom with lus brethren Timias slew, liefell: 

That was, to weet. the goodlv Florimell; 

Who wandring for to seeke her lover dcare. 

Her lover dcare, her dearest Marinell, 

Into misfortune fell, as ye did heare. 

And from Prince Arthure fled with wings of idle fearc. 


The Faerie Queene 


The witches sonne loves Florimell: 

She flyes; he fairies to dy. 

Satyrane saves the Squ>Te of Dames 
iTom Gyaunts tyranny, 

I. Like as an Hynd forth singled from the heard, 

That hath escaped from a ravenous beast, 

Yet flyes away of her owne feete afeard, 

And every leafe, that shaketh with the least 
Murmure of winde, her terror hath encreast; 

So fledd fay re Florimell from her vaine feare, 

Long after she from perill was releast: 

Each shade she saw, and each noyse she did heare, 
Did seeme to be the same which she escapt whileare. 

II. All that same evening she in flying spent, 

And all that night her course continewed; 

Ne did she let dull slecpe once to relent, 

Nor wearincsse to slack her hast, but fled 
Ever alike, as if her former dred 

Were hard behind, her ready to arrest; 

And her while l^ilfrcy, having conquered 
The maistring raines out of her weary wrest, 

Perforce her can ied where ever he thought best. 

III. So long as breath and hable puissaunce 
Did native corage unto him supply, 

II is pace he freshly fonvard ihd advaunce, 

And carried her beyond all jco[)ardy ; 

But nought that wanteth rest can long aby: 

He, having through incessant traveill spent 
His force, at last perforce adowne did Iv, 

Ne foot could further move. The Lady gent 
Thereat was suddein strook with great astonishment; 

IV. And, forst t’ alight, on foote mote algates fare 
A traveiler unwonted to such way: 

Need teacheth her this lesson hard and rare, 

Book III — Canto VII 423 

That fortune all in equal] launce doth sway, 

And mortal! miseries doth make her play. " 

So long she traveild, till at length she came 
To an hilles side, which did to her bewray 
A litle valley subject to the same, 

All coverd with thick woodes that quite it overcame. 

V. Through the tops of the high trees she did descry 
A litle smoke, whose vapour thin and light 
Reeking aloft uprolled to the sky : 

Which chearefull signe did send unto her sight 
That in the same did wpnne some living wight. 
Eftsoones her steps she thereunto apply d, 

And came at last in weary wretched [)light 
Unto the place, to which her hope did guyde, 

To finde some refuge there, and rest her wearic syde. 

VI. There in a gloomy hollow glen she found 
A little cottage, built of stickes and recdcs 
In homely wize, and wald with sods around ; 

In which a witch did dwell, in loathly weedes 
And wilfull w'ant, all carelesse of her neetles; 

So choosing solitarie to abide 

Far from all neighbours, that her divc lish deedes 
And hellish arts from people she might hide, 

And hurt far off unknow ne whom ever she envidc. 

VII. The Damzcll there arriving entred in; 

Where sitting on the tlore the Hag she found 
Busic (as seem'd) alxait some wicked gin: 

Who, soone as she beheld that suddein stound, 

Lightly upstarted from the clustie ground, 

And with fell looke and hollow deadly gaze 
Stared on her awhile, as one astound, 

Ne had one word to speake for great amaze, 

But shewd by outward signes that dread her sence did daze. 

VIII. At last, turning her feare to foolish wrath, 

She askt, what dcvill had her thither brought. 

And who she was, and what unw'onted path 
Had guided her, unwxlcomed, unsought.^ 

To which the Damzell, full of doubtfull thought. 

Her mildly answer’d: “ Beldame, be not wroth 

424. The Faerie Queene 

With silly Virgin, by adventure brought 
Unto your dwelling, ignorant and loth. 

That crave but rowme to rest while tempest overblo’th.” 

IX. With that adowne out of her christall eyne 
Few trickling teares she softly forth let fall, 

That like two orient perles did purely shyne 
Upon her snowy cheeke; and therewithal! 

She sighed soft, that none so bestiall 

Nor salvage hart, but ruth of her sad plight 
Would make to melt, or pitteously appall; 

And that vile Hag, all were her whole delight 
In mischiefe, was much moved at so pitteous sight; 

X. And gan recomfort her in her rude wysc, 

With womanish compassion of her plaint. 

Wiping the teares from her suffused eyes. 

And bidding her sit downe, to rest her faint 
And wearie limbcs awhile. She, nothing quaint 
Nor ’sdeignfull of so homely fashion, 

Sith brought she was now to so hard constraint. 

Sate downe upon the dusty ground anon; 

As glad of that small rest as Bird of tempest gon. 

XI. Tho gan she gather up her garments rent. 

And her loose lockes to dight in order dew 
With golden wreath and gorgeous ornament; 

Whom such whenas the wicked Hag did vew^^ 

She was astonisht at her heavenly hew. 

And doubted her to deeme an earthly wight. 

But or some Goddesse, or of Dianes crew. 

And thought her to adore with humble spright: 

T* adore thing so divine as beauty were but right. 

XII. This wicked woman had a wicked sonne. 

The comfort of her age and weary dayes, 

A laesy loord, for nothing good to donne. 

But stretched forth in ydlenesse alwayes, 

Ne ever cast his mind to covet prayse, 

Or ply himselfe to any honest trade, 

But all the day before the sunny rayes 
He us'd to slug, or sleepe in slothful! shade • 

Such laesinesse both lewd and poore attonce him made. 


Book III — Canto VII 

XIII. He, comming home at undertime, there found 
The fayrest creature that he ever saw 
Sitting beside his mother on the ground; 

The sight whereof did greatly him adaw, 

And his base thought with terrour and with aw 
So inly smot, that as one, which hath gaz'd 
On the bright Sunne unwares, doth soone withdraw 
His feeble eyne, with too much brighlnes daz'd. 

So stared he on her, and stood long while amaz'd. 

XIV. Softly at last he gan his mother aske, 

What mister wight that was, and whence deriv'd, 
That in so straunge disguizement there ditl iiKuke, 
And by what accident she there arriv’d? 

But she, as one nigh of her wits depriv’d, 

With nought but ghastly lookes him answered ; 

Like to a ghost, that lately is reviv’d 

From Stygian shores where late it wandered: 

So both at her, and each at other wondered. 

XV. But the fayre Virgin was so mccke and myld, 

That she to them vouchsafed to embaee 

Her goodly port, and to their senses vyld 
Her gentle speach applyde, that in short sp.ire 
She grew familiare in that desert place. 

During which time the ( horle, through her so kind 
And courteise use, conceiv'd afTeclion bare, 

And cast to love her in his brutish mind: 

No love, but brutish lust, that was so l)eastly lind. 

XVI. Closely the wicked flame his bowtK bicnl. 

And shortly grew into outrageous tire; 

Yet had he not the hart, nor hardiim nt, 

As unto her to utter his desire; 

His caytive thought durst not so high aspire: 

But with soft sighes and lovely semblaunccs 
He ween’d that his affection entire 
She should aread; many rcsemblaunccs 
To her he made, and many kinde remembraunccs. 

xvii. Oft from the forrest wildings he did bring. 

Whose sides empurpled were with smyling red; 

And oft young birds, which he had taught to sing, 

426 The Faerie Queene 

* His maistresse praises sweetly caroled: 

Girlonds of flowres sometimes for her faire bed 
He fine would dight; sometimes the squirrell wild 
He brought to her in bands, as conquered 
To be her thrall, his fellow-servant vild : 

All which she of him tooke with countenance meeke 
and mild. 

XVIII. But, past a while, when she fit season saw 
To leave that desert mansion, she cast 
In secret wize herselfe thence to withdraw, 

For feare of mischiefe, wl\ich she did forecast 
Might by the witch or by her sonne compast. 

Her wearie Palfrey, closely as she might, 

Now well recovered after long repast, 

In his proud furnitures she freshly dight. 

His late miswandred wayes now to remeasure right. 

XIX. And earely, ere the dawning day appear’d, 

She forth issewed, and on her journey went; 

She went in perill, of each noyse affeard. 

And of each shade that did it selfe present; 

For still she feared to be overhent 
Of that vile hag, or her uncivile sonne ; 

Who when, too late awaking, well they kent 
That their fay re guest was gone, they both begonne 
To make exceeding mone, as they had been undonne. 

XX. But that lewd lover did the most lament 
For her depart, that ever man did heare : 

He knockt his brest with desperate intent. 

And scratcht his face, and with his teeth did teare 
His rugged flesh, and rent his ragged heare; 

That his sad mother, seeing his sore plight. 

Was greatly woe begon, and gan to feare 
Least his fraile senses were emperisht quight. 

And love to frenzy turnd, sith love is franticke hight, 

XXX. All wayes shee sought him to restore to plight. 

With herbs, with charms, with counsel, and with teares; 
But tears, nor charms, nor herbs, nor counsell, might 
Ass wage the fury which his entrails teares; 

So strong is passion that no reason heares. 

Tho when all other helpes she saw to faile, 

Book III— Canto VII 


She tumd her selfe backe to her wicked Icarcs; 

And by her divelish arts thought to prevaile 
To bringe her backe againe, or worke lier finall bale. 

XXII. Eftesoones out of her hidden cave she cald 
An hideous beast of horrible aspect. 

That could the stoutest corage have appald : 
Monstrous, mishapt, and all his backe was spect 
W’ith thousand spots of colours qiieint elect, 

Thereto so swifte that it all beasts did pas: 

Like never yet did living eie detect; 

But likest it to an H\Tna was, 

That feeds on w'emens flesh as others feede on gras. 

XXIII. It forth she cald, and gave it streight in charge 
Through thicke and thin her to poursew* ajiacc, 

Nc once to stay to rest, or breath at large, 

Till her he had attaind and brought in place, 

Or quite devourd her beauties scornefull gr.icc. 

The Monster, swifte as word that from her went, 
Went forth in haste, and did her footing trace 
So sure and sw'iftly, through his perfect sent 
And passing speede, that sliortly he her overheat. 

XXIV. Whom when the fearcfull Damzell nigh espide, 

No need to bid her fast away to flic: 

That ugly shape so sore her terrifide, 

Tliat it she shund no lesse then dread to die; 

And her flitt palfrey did so well apjily 
His nimble feet to her conceived feare, 

That whilcst his breath did strength to him supply, 
From peril free he her away did lx:are; 

But when his force gan fade his pace gan wax arearc. 

XXV. Which whenas she j>erceiv*d, she was dismayd 
At that same last extremity ful .sore, 

And of her safety greatly grew afrayd. 

And now she gan approch to the sea shore. 

As it befell, that she could flie no more. 

But yield herselfe to spoile of greed inessc: 

Lightly she lcap>ed, as a wight forlore, 

From her dull horse, in desperate distresse. 

And to her feet betooke her doubtfull sickcmessCr 

428 The Faerie Quecne 

XXVI. Not halfe so fast the wicked Myrrha fled 
From dread of her revenging fathers bond ; 

Nor halfe so fast to save her maydenhed 
Fled fearfull Daphne on th* .^gaean strond. 

As Florimell fled from that Monster yond. 

To reach the sea ere she of him were raught : 

For in the sea to drowne herselfe she fond, 

Rather then of the tyrant to be caught : 

Thereto fear gave her wings, and need her corage taught. 

XXVII. It fortuned (high God did so ordaine) 

As shee arrived on the roring shore. 

In minde to leape into the mighty maine, 

A little bote lay hoving her before. 

In which there slept a fisher old and pore, 

The whiles his nets were drying on the sand. 

Into the same shee lept, and with the ore 
Did thrust the shallop from the floting strand : 

So safety fownd at sea which she fownd not at land. 

XXVIII. The Monster, ready on the pray to sease. 

Was of his forward hope deceived quight; 

Ne durst assay to wade the perlous seas, 

But greedily long gaping at the sight, 

At last in vaine was forst to turne his flight. 

And tell the idle tidings to his Dame: 

Yet, to avenge his divelish despight, 

He sett up>on her Palfrey tired lame. 

And slew him cruelly ere any reskew came. 

XXIX. And, after having him embowelled 

To fill his hellish gorge, it chaunst a knight 
To passe that way, as forth he travelled: 

Yt was a goodly Swaine, and of great might. 

As ever man that bloody field did fight; 

But in vain sheows, that wont yong knights bewitch. 
And courtly services, tooke no delight; 

But rather joyd to bee then seemen sich. 

For both to be and seeme to him was labor lich. 

XXX. It was to weete the good Sir Satyrane, 

That raunged abrode to seeke adventures wilde, 

As was his wont, in forest and in plaine : 

Book III— Canto VII 429 

He was all armd in rugged steele unfilde, 

As in the smoky forge it was compilde, 

And in his Scutchin bore a Satyres hc<id. 

He comming present, where the Monster vilde 
Upon that milke-white Palfrey cs carcas fedd, 

Unto his reskew ran, and greedily him spedd. 

XXXI. There well perccivd he it was the horse 
Whereon faire Florimell was wont to ride. 

That of that fecnd was rent without remorse: 

Much feared he least ought did ill betide 
To that faire Maiden the flowre of wemens jiride; 

For her he dearely loved, and in all 
His famous conquests highly m.ignifide: 

Besides, her golrlen girdle, which did fall 

From her in flight, he fownd, that did him sore ajiall. 

XXXII. Full of sad feare and doubtfull agony 

Fiercely he flew upon that wicked feend, 

And with huge strokes and cruell battery 
Him forst to leave his pray, for to attend 
Him selfe from deadly daunger to defend: 

Full many wounds in his corrupted flesh 
He did engrave, and muchell blood did spencl, 

Vet might not doe him flic: but aie more fresh 
And fierce he still appeard, the more he did him thresh. 

XXXIII. lie wist not how him to despr)jle of life, 

Ne how to win the wished victory, 

Sith him he saw still stronger grow through strife, 

And him selfe w'caker throut^h infirmity. 

Greatly lie grew enrag’d, and furiously 
Hurling his sword away he lightly lept 
Upon the beast, that with great cruelty 
Rored and raged to be underkept; 

Yet he perforce him held, and strokes upon him hept. 

XXXIV. As he that strives to stop a suddein flootl. 

And in strong bancks his violence enclose, 

Forceth it swell above his wonted mood, 

And largely overflow the fruitful! plainc, 

That all the countrey seemes to l>c a Maine. 

And the rich furrowes flote, all quite fordonne: 

4JO The Faerie Queene 

The wofull husbandman doth lowd complaine 
To see his whole yeares labor lost so soone, 

For which to God he made so many an idle boone: 

XXXV. So him he held, and did through might amate. 

So long he held him, and him bett so long. 

That at the last his fiercenes gan abate. 

And meekely stoup unto the victor strong: 

Who, to avenge the implacable wrong 
Which he supposed donne to Florimell, 

Sought by all meanes his dolor to prolong, 

Sith dint of steele his carcos could not quell; 

His maker with her charmes had framed him so well, 

XXXVI. The golden ribband, which that virgin wore 
About her sclender waste, he tooke in hand. 

And with it bownd the beast, that lowd did rore 
For great despight of that unwonted band. 

Yet dared not his victor to withstand, 

But trembled like a lambe fled from the pray; 

And all the way him folio wd on the strand, 

As he had long bene learned to obay; 

Yet never learned he such service till that day. 

xxxvii. Thus as he led the Beast along the way. 

He spide far off a mighty Giauntesse 
Fast flying, on a Courser dapled gray. 

From a bold knight that with great hardinesse 
Her hard pursewed, and sought for to suppresse. 

She bore before her lap a doleful Squire, 

Lying athwart her horse in great distresse, 

Fast bounden hand and foote with cords of wire. 
Whom she did meane to make the thrall of her desire. 

XXXVIII. Which whenas Satyrane beheld, in haste 
He lefte his captive Beast at liberty. 

And crost the nearest way, by which he cast 
Her to encounter ere she passed by ; 

But she the way shund nathemore forthy, 

But forward gallopt fast; which when he spyde. 

His mighty speare he couched warily, 

And at her ran : she, having him descryde, 

Her selfe to fight addrest, and threw her lode aside. 


Book III— Canto VII 

xxxix. Like as a Goshauke, that in {ooie doth beare 
A trembling Culver, having spidc on hight 
An Eagle that with plumy wings doth sheare 
The subtile ayre stouping with all his might. 

The quarry throwes to ground with fell despight, 

And to the batteill doth her selfe prepare: 

So ran the Geauntessc unto the fight ; 

Her fyrie eyes with furious sparkes did stare, 

And with blasphemous bannes high God in peeccs tare. 

XL. She caught in hand an huge great yron macc, 
Wherewith she maify had of life depriv’d ; 

But, ere the stroke could seize his aymcd place, 

His speare amids her sun-brode shield arriv’d; 

Yet nathemore the steele asondcr riv’d, 

All were the bcame in bigncs like a mast, 

Ne her out of the stedfast sadlc driv’d ; 

But, glauncing on the teniprcd mctall, brast 
In thousand shivers, and so forth beside her past. 

XLi. Her Steed did stagger with that puissaiint strookc; 
But she no more was moved with that miglit 
Then it had liglited on an aged Okc, 

Or on the marble Pillour that is pight 
Upon the top of Mount Olympus hight, 

For the brave youthly Champions to assay 
With burning charct whecics it nigh to smite; 

But who that smites it mars his jovous play. 

And is the spectacle of ruinous decay. 

XLir. Yet, therewith sore enrag’d, with sterne regard 
Her dreadfull weapon she to him addrest. 

Which on his helmet martclled so har^I 
That made him low incline his lofty crest, 

And lx)wd his battred visour to his brest: 

Wherewith he was so stund that he n’ote ryde, 

But reeled to and fro from east to west. 

Which when his cruell enimy espyde. 

She lightly unto him adjoyned syde to syde; 

XLiii. And, on his collar laying puissaunt hand, 

Out of his wavering seat him pluckt perforse, 

Perforse him pluckt, unable to withstand 

432 The Faerie Queene 

Or helpe himselfe; and laying thwart her horse, 

In loathly wise like to a carrion corse, 

She bore him fast away. Which when the knight 
That her pursewed saw, with great remorse 
lie nere was touched in his noble spright. 

And gan encrease his speed as she encreast her flight. 

XLiv. Whom when as nigh approching she espyde. 

She threw away her burden angrily ; 

For she list not the batteill to abide. 

But made her selfe more light away to fly: 

Yet her the hardy knight pursewd so nye 
That almost in the backe he oft her strake; 

But still, when him at hand she did espy. 

She turnd, and semblaunce of faire fight did make, 
liut, when he stayd, to flight againe she did her take. 

XLV. By this the good Sir Satyrane gan awake 

Out of his dreame that did him long entraunce. 

And, seeing none in place, he gan to make 
Exceeding mone, and curst that criiell chaunce 
Which reft from him so faire a chevisaunce. 

At length he spyde whereas that wofuil Squyre, 

W hom he hud reskewed from captivaiince 
Of his strong foe, lay tombled in the myre, 

Unable to arise, or foote or hand to sty re. 

XLVi. To whom approching, well he mote perceive 
In that fowle plight a comely personage 
And lovely face, made fit for to deceive 
Fraile Ladies hart with loves consuming rage. 

Now in the blossome of his freshest age. 

He reard him up and loosd his yron bands. 

And after gan inquire his parentage. 

And how he fell into the Gyaunts hands. 

And who that was which chaced her along the lands. 

XLVii. Then trembling yet through feare the Squire bespake 
“ That Geauntesse Argantf^ is behight, 

A daughter of the Titans w hich did make 
Warre against heven, and heaped hils on hight 
To scale the skyes and put Jove from his right: 

Her syre Typhoeus was; who, mad through merth, 

Book III — Canto VII 43 

dronke with blood of men slaine by his might. * 
Through incest her of his owne mother Earth 
Whylome begot, being but halfe twin of that berth: 

XLMir.^ For at that berth another Bal)e she Ixirc: 

To weet, the might ie Ollyphunt, that wrought 
Great wreake to many errant knights of vore, 

And many hath to foule confusion brought. 

These twinnes, men say, (a thing far passing thought) 
While in their mothers womhe enclose! they were, 

Ere they into the lightsom world were brought, 

In fleshly lust were luingied both vfere. 

And in that monstrous wise did to the world ai^jicre. 

XLix. “ So liv’d they ever after in like sin. 

Gainst natures law and good behaveoiire : 

But greatest shame was to that maitlen twin, 

Who, not content so fowly to devoure 

Her native flesh and stainc her brothers Ixiwrc, 

Did wallov/ in all other fleshly my re, 

And sufTred beastes her body to deflowr(‘, 

So whot she burned in that lustfull fyre; 

Yet all that might not slake her sensuall desyre: 

L. “ But over all the countrie she did raimgf* 

To seeke young men to quench her flaming thrust, 

And feed her fancy with dclighlfull chaunge: 

Whom so she fittest Andes to serve her lust, 

Through her maine strength, in which she most doth trust, 
She with her bringes into a secret He, 

Where in etemall Ixindage dye he must, 

Or be the vassall of her pleasures vile, 

And in all shamcfull sort him selfe with her d( file. 

LI. “ Me, seely wretch, she so at vauntage caught, 

After she long in waitc for me did lye. 

And meant unto her prison to have brought. 

Her lothsom pleasure there to satisfye; 

Tliat thousand deathes me lever were to dye 
Then breake the vow that to faire ColumbcII 
I plighted have, and yet keepe stedfasily. 

As for my name, it mistreth not to tell: 

Call me the Squyre of Dames; that me Ixjseemeth wxll. 

The Faerie Queene 


“ But that bold knight, whom ye pursuing saw 
That Geauntesse, is not such as she scemd, 

But a faire virgin that in martiall law 
And deedes of armes above all Dames is deemd. 

And above many knightes is eke esteemd 
For her great worth : She Palladine is bight. 

She you from death, you me from dread, redeemd; 
Ne any may that Monster match in fight, 

But she, or such as she, that is so chaste a wight.*^ 

Liii. ** Her well beseemes that Quest,” (quoth Satyrane) 

“ But read, thou Squyre of pames, what vow is this. 
Which thou upon thy selfe hast lately ta’ne ? ” 

‘‘ That shall I you recount,” (quoth he) “ ywis. 

So be ye plcasd to pardon all amis. 

That gentle Lady whom I love and serve. 

After long suit and wearie servicis, 

Did aske me, how I could her love deserve, 

And how she might be sure that I would never swerve 

Liv. ** I, glad by any meanes her grace to gaine, 

Badd her commaund my life to save or spill. 
Eftsoones she badd me, with incessaunt paine 
To wander through the world abroad at will. 

And every where, where with my power or skill 
I might doe service unto gentle Dames, 

That I the same should faithfully fulfill ; 

And at the twelve monethes end should bring their nai 
And pledges, as the spoilcs of my victorious games. 

LV. So well I to faire Ladies service did. 

And found such favour in their loving hartes. 

That ere the yeare his course had compassid, 

Thrc hundred pledges for my good desartes. 

And thrice three hundred thanks for my good partes, 
I with me brought, and did to her present: 

Which when she saw, more bent to eke my smartes 
Then to reward my trusty true intent, 

She gan for me devise a grievous punishment 

LVI. ** To weet, that I my traveill should resume, 

And with like labour walke the world arownd, 

Ne ever to her presence should presume. 




Book III — Canto VII 

Till I so many other Dames had fownd, 

The which, for all the suit I could propownd. 

Would me refuse their pledges to afford, 

But did abide for ever chaste and sownd/* 

“ ^\h! gentle Squyre,'* (quoth he) “ tell at one word, 
How many fownd'st thou such to put in thv reconl? 

LVii. “ Indeed, Sir knight,^’ (said he) “ one word may toll 
All that I ever fownd so wisely stavd. 

For onely three they were disposd so well ; 

And yet three yeares I now ahnxh' have str.iyd. 

To fynd them out.*’. ** Mote I/' (then l.iughini; savd 
The knight) “ inquire of thee what were those three. 
The which thy proffred curtesie denayd ? 

Or ill they seemed sure avizd to bee, 

Or brutishly brought up, that nev’r did fa^luons see.** 

LViii. The first wdiich then refiise<i me,” (said lac) 

“ Certes was but a common Courtisane; 

Yet flat refusd to have adoe with inee, 

Because I could not give her many a Jane.’’ 

(Thereat full hartely laughed Satyrane.) 

“ The second was an holy Nunne to chose, 

Which would not let me be her ('happcdlaiu*. 

Because she knew, she said, I w'ould rlisclnse 
Her counsell, if she should her trust i:i me repose. 

Lix. The third a Damzell was of low’ fh gree, 

Whom I in countrey cottage fownd by diaunce: 

Full litle weened I that chastitee 

Had lodging in so mcane a maintenaunce; 

Yet was she fay re, «ind in her countenaunce 
Dwelt simple truth in scemcly fashion. 

Long thus I woo’d her with due observaunce. 

In hope unto my pleasure to have won . 

But was as far at last, as when I first ingon. 

LX. “ Safe her, I never any woman found 
That chastity did for it scUe embrace, 

But were for other causes firme and sound; 

Either for want of handsome time and place, 

Or else for fcarc of shame and fowle disgrace. 

Thus am 1 hop)elesse ever to attainc 

4j6 Tk Faerie Queene 

My hdies love in such a desperate case, 

But all my dayes am like to waste in vaine, 

Seeking to match the chaste with th’ unchaste Ladies 

LXi. “ Perdy ” (sayd Satyrane) “ thou Squyre of Dames, 
Great labour fondly hast thou hent in hand, 

To get small thankes, and therewith many blames, 

That may emongst Alcides labours stand.” 

Thence backc returning to the former land. 

Where late he left the Beast he overcame. 

He found him not; for he hjd broke his band. 

And was rctiirnd againe unto his Dame, 

To tell what lydings of fayre Florimell became. 

Book. Ill — Canto VIII 



The Witch creates a snowv I a- 
dy like to Fliniufll. 

Who ur('iin‘d l)\ 1 .»rle. h\ Troteii-^ *^.\\\], 

Is sought by raiidell 

I. So oft as I this history record. 

My heart doth melt ) 4 *iih inecre compassion, 
lo thinke how causelcsse, of her owne accoid. 

This gentle Damzell, whom I write upon, 

Sliould plongcd he in such aflhction 
Without all hope of comfort or reludc; 

That sure, I weene, the hardest hart of stone 
Would hardly finde to aggravate her griefe, 

For misery craves rather merev then repra f(‘. 

II. But that accursed Hag, her hostessc Kite, 

Had so enranckled hcT mahtious hart, 

'I'hat she d('syrd th’ ahrulgement of her f.iti‘, 

Or long enlargement of her painefull smart. 

Now when the Beast, whu h by her wa ked .irt 
Late foorth she sent, she barke retoiirnmg sp\ de 
T>ale with her golden girdle; it a part 
Of her rich s[)oyles whom he luul earst rlcstroyd 
She w'cend, and wondrous gladnes to her h.irl applyde. 

III. And, with it ronning hast'ly to her sonnr. 

Thought with that sight him much to have reliv'd 
Who, thereby deeming sure the thing as rlunne. 

His former griefe w’ith furic fresh reviv'd 

Much more than carst, and would have alg.ili s ri\ 'd 
I'he hart out of his brest; for silh hf‘r rledfl 
He surely dempt. himselfe he ihourrhi rlcprivM 
Quite of all hope wherewith he Kuig had fedd 
His foolish malady, and long time harl mislec’d. 

IV. With thought whereof exceeding mad h * grew. 

And in his rage his mother would have slaine, 

Had she not fled into a secret mew, 

♦ p 44.{ 

438 The Faerie Que^ne 

Where she was wont her Sprightes to entertaine, 

The maisters of her art: there was she faine 
To call them all in order to her ayde, 

And them conjure, upon etcrnall paine, 

To counsell her, so carefully dismayd, 

How she might heale her sonne whose senses were decayd. 

V. By their advice, and her owne wicked wit. 

She there deviz’d a wondrous worke to frame, 

Whose like on earth was never framed yit; 

That even Nature sclfc envide the same. 

And grudg’d to see the counter fet should shame 
The thing it selfe: In hand she boldly tooke 
To make another like the former Dame, 

Another Florimell, in shape and looke 
So lively and so like, that many it mistooke. 

VI. The substance, whereof she the body made, 

Was purest snow in massy mould congoald, 

Which she had gathered in a shady glade 
Of the Riphoean hils, to her revcald 

By errant Sprights, but from all men conceald : 

The same she tempred with fine mercury 
And virgin wex that never yet was scald. 

And mingled them with perfect vermily; 

That like a lively sanguine it seemd to the eye. 

VII. Instead of eyes two burning lampes she set 
In silver sockets, shyning like the skyes, 

And a quicke moving Spirit did arret 

To stirre and roll them like to womens eyes: 

Instead of yellow lockcs she did devyse 
With golden wyre to weave her curled head; 

Yet golden wyre was not so yellow thryse 
As Florimells fayre hcare: and, in the stead 
Of life, she put a Spright to rule the carcas dead; 

VIII. A wicked Spright, yfraught with fawning guyle 
And fayre resemblance above all the rest, 

Which with the Prince of Darkenes fell somewhyle 
From heavens blis and everlasting rest: 

Him needed not instruct which way were best 
Him sclfc to fashion likest Florimcil, 


Book III — Canto VIII 


Ne how to spcake, ne how to use his post; 

For he in counterfesaunce did cxcell, 

And all the wylcs of wemens wits knew passing well. 

IX. Hini shaped thus she deekt in garments gay. 

Which Florimcll had left behind her late; 

That who so then her saw would surely «;.iy 
It was her selfe whom it did imitate, 

Or fayrer then her selfe, if ought algate 

Might fayrer be. And then she forth her brought 

Unto her sonne that lay in feeble st.ite; 

W'ho seeing her gan sleight upsUirt, and thought 
She was the Lady selfe wliom he so long had sought. 

X. Tho fast her clipping twixt his arnies twayne, 
Extremely joyed in so happy sight, 

And soone forgot his former sickely payne: 

But she, the more to seeme such as she hight, 
Coyly rebutted his embracement light ; 

Yet still, with gentle countenauntc» retain’d 
Enough to hold a foole in vaine delight. 

Him long she so with sha(h>\ves entertain’d, 

As her Creatresse had in charge to her onkiin’d. 

XI. Till on a day, as he disposed wms 

To walke the woodes with that his Idole faire, 
Her to disport and idle time to pas 
In th’ open freshnes of the gentle aire, 

A knight that way there chaunced to ri paire; 
Yet knight he was not, but a boast full swaine 
That deedes of armes had ever in d( Sj>aire, 
Proud Braggadoerhio, that in vaunting \aine 
His glory did repose, and credit did rnaintainc. 

XII. lie, seeing wdth that Chorle so faire a u ight, 
Decked with many a costly ornament. 

Much merveiled thereat, as well he might, 

And thought that match a hjwle disparagement: 
His bloody speare eftesoones he bokily lx*nt 
Against the silly clowne, who dead through fearc 
Fell streight to ground in great astonishment. 

“ \’ill«*in,” (.sayd he) “ this I^idy is my dearc; 
Dy, if thou it gainesay: I will aw'ay her bcarc.’* 

440 The Faerie Queehe 

xin. The fearefuU Chorle durst not gainesay nor dooe, 

But trembling stood, and yielded him the pray; 

Who, finding litle leasure her to wooe 
On Tromparts steed her mounted without stay. 

And without reskcw led her quite away. 

Proud man himsclfe then Braggadochio deem’d. 

And next to none after that happy day. 

Being possessed of that spoyle, which seem’<l 

The fairest wight on ground, and most of men esteem’a. 

XIV. But, when hee saw him selfe free from poursute, 

He gan make gentle purpose^to his Dame 
With termes of love and lewdnesse dissolute ; 

For he could well his glozing speaches frame 
To such vainc uses that him best became : 

But she thereto woukl lend but light regard. 

As seeming sory that she ever came 

Into his powre, that used her so hard 

To reave her honor, which she more then life prefard. 

XV. Thus as they two of kindnes treated long, 

Tliere them by chaunce encountred on the way 
An armed knight upon a courser strong, 

Whose trampling feetc upon the hollow lay 
Seemed to thunder, and ilid nigh affray 

That Capons corage : yet he looked grim, 

And faynd to chcare his lady in dismay, 

Who seemd for feare to quake in every lim, 

And her to save from outrage moekely prayed him. 

XVI. iMerccly that straungcr forward came: and, nigh 
Approching; with bold words and bitter threat 
Bad that same boaster, as he mote, on high. 

To leave to him that lady for excheat. 

Or bide him batteill without further treat. 

That challenge did too peremptory seeme. 

And fild his senses with abashment great ; 

Yet seeing nigh him jeopardy extreme, 

He it dissembled well, and light seemd to cstccmc 

XVJT. Saying, “ Thou foolish knight, that wcenst with words 
To steale away that I with blowes have wonne. 

And brought through points of many perilous sw’ords: 


liook III — Canto VIII 

But if thee list to see thy Courser ronne, 

Or prove thy selfe, this sad encounter slionne^ 

And seeke els without hazard of thy hedd.” 

At those prowd words that other knicrlit begonne 
To wex exceeding wroth, and him aredd 
To turne his stcedc ab<^ut, or sure he should l>c dedd. 

XVIII. “ Sith then,*’ (said Braggadochio) “ lucdes thou will 
Thy daies abridge through proofe of puissaunce, 

Turne we our steeds; that })oth in cquall tilt 
May mcete againe, and each take happy chaiiruc." 
This said, they both furlongs mounlt iiaunce 
Rctird their steeds, to ronne in even ra(“e ; 

But Braggadochio, with his bloody launce. 

Once having tiirnd, no more returnd his fact*. 

But lefte his love to los -e, and fled lum selle apace. 

XIX. The knight, him seeing flic, had no reganl 
Him to poursew, but to the lady rode ; 

And having her from Trompart lightly reard, 

Upon his Courser sett the lovely lode, 

And with her fled away without alxhic. 

Well weened he, that fairest Florimell 
It was with whom in company he yode, 

And so her selfe did alw'aies to him till; 

b’u made him thinke him selfe in hevj'O that was in hel). 

XX. But Florimell her selfe was far av»a\ , 

Driven to great by fortunt‘ straimge, 

And taught tlie carefull Mariner l<> play, 

Sith late mischaunce had her (f)m|> - Id to rhaunge 
The land for sea, at randon there to ratings- : 

Yett there that cruell Qurene aveng^ res A*, 

Not satisfyde so far her to estraungf 
From courtly blis and wonted happiru v, 

Did heape on her nc%v waves «)f w(aiy wictrhcdnc :."c. 

-\xi. For Ixiing fled intr> the fishers bote 
For refuge from the Monsters cruelty, 

Long so she on the mighty maine did flote, 

And with the tide drove forward carclcsly ; 

For th’ ayre was milde and cleared was the skie, 

And all his windes Dan Aeolus did keepc 


The Faerie Quee'n,e 

From stirring up their stormy enmity, 

As pittying to see her waile and weepe : 

But all the while the fisher did securely sleepe^ 

XXII. At last when droncke with drowsinesse he woke, 

And saw his drover drive along the streame, 

He was dismayd; and thrise his brest he stroke, 

For marveill of that accident extreame : 

But when he saw that blazing beauties beame. 

Which with rare light his bote did beautifye, 

He marveild more, and thought he yet did dreame 
Not well awakte ; or that^ome extasye 
Assotted had his sence, or dazed was his eye. 

XXIII. But when her well avizing hee perceiv’d 
To be no vision nor fantasticke sight. 

Great comfort of her presence he conceiv’d, 

And felt in his old corage new delight 
To gin awake, and stir his frosen spright : 

Tho rudely askte her, how she thither came ? 

** Ah I ” (sayd she) hither, I note read aright 
What hard misfortune brought me to this same; 

Yet am I glad that here I now in safety ame. 

XXIV. ** But thou, good man, sith far in sea we bee, 

And the great waters gin apace to swell, 

That now no more we can the mayn-land see. 

Have care, I pray, to guide the cock-bote well. 

Least worse on sea then us on land befell.” 

Thereat th’ old man did nought but fondly grin. 

And saide his boat the way could wisely tell; 

But his deceiptfull eyes did never lin 

To looke on her faire face and marke her snowy skin. 

XXV. The sight whereof in his congealed flesh 
Infixt such secrete sting of greedy lust, 

That the drie withered stocke it gan refresh, 

And kindled heat that soone in flame forth brust : 
The driest wood is soonest burnt to dust. 

Rudely to her he lept, and his rough bond 
Where ill became him rashly would have thrust; 

But she with angry scome did him withstond. 

And shamefully reproved for his rudenes fond. 


Book? Ill — Canto VIII 

XXVI. But he, that never good nor maners knew. 

Her sharpe rebuke full litle did esteeme; 

Hard is to teach an old horse amble trew : 

The inward smoke, that did before but stcemc. 
Broke into open fire and rage extreme ; 

And now he strength gan addc unto his will, 
Forcyng to doe that did him fowle missci inc. 

Beastly he threwe her downe, ne car'd to spill 
Her garments gay with scales of fish that all did fill. 

xxvn. The silly virgin strove him to withstand 

All that she might, find him in vaine revild: 

Shee strugled strongly both with footc and hand 
To save her honor from that villaine vilde. 

And cridc to heven, from humane help exild. 

O! ye brave knights, that boast this l.iulies love, 
Where be ye now, when she is nigh defild 
Of filthy wretch? well may she you reprove 
Of falsehood or of slouth, when most it may behove. 

xxviif. But if that thou. Sir Satyran, didst wcete, 

Or thou, Sir Peridure, her sory state, 

How soone would yec assemble many a fleete, 

To fetch from sea that ye at land lost late! 

Towres, citties, kingdomes, ye would ruinate 
In your avengement and despiteous rage, 

Ne ought your burning fury mote abate; 

But if Sir Calidore could it presiige. 

No living creature could his cruelty asswage. 

XXIX. But sith that none of all her knights is nye, 

See how the heavens, of voluntary grace 
And soveraine favor towards chastity. 

Doe succor send to her distressed cace; 

So much high God doth innocence embrace. 

It fortuned, whilcst thus she stifly strove, 

And the wide sea importuned long space 
With shrilling shriekes, Proteus abrodc did rove, 
Along the fomy waves driving his finny drove. 

XXX. Proteus is Shepheard of the seas of yore, 

And hath the charge of Neptunes mighty heard ; 

An aged sire with head all frory horc. 


The Faerie Queene 

And sprinckled frost upon his deawy beard : 

Who when those pittifull outcries he heard 
Through all the seas so ruefully resownd. 

His charett swifte in hast he thither steard. 

Which with a teeme of scaly Phocas bownd 
Was drawnc upon the waves that fomed him arownd. 

XXXI. And comming to that Fishers wandring bote, 

That went at will withouten card or sayle, 

He therein stiw that yrkesome sight, which smote 
Deepe indignation and compassion frayle 
Into his hart attonce: streight did he hayle 
The greedy villein from his hoped pray, 

Of which he now did very litle fayle, 

And with his staffe, that drives his heard astray, 

Him bett so sore, that life and sence did much dismay. 

XXXII. The whiles the pitteous Lady up did ryse, 

Ruffled and fowly raid with filthy soyle, 

And blubbred face with teares of her faire eyes: 

Her heart nigh broken was with weary toyle, 

To save her selfc from that outrageous spoyle; 

But when she looked up, to wcet what wight 
Had her from so infamous fact assoyld. 

For shame, but more for fcare of his grim sight, 

Downe in her lap she hid her face, and lowclly shright. 

XXXIII. Her selfe not saved yet from daunger dredd 

She thought, but chaung’d from one to other fcare: 

Like as a fearefull partridge, that is fiedd 

From the sharpe hauke which her attached ncare, 

And fals to ground to seeke for succor thearc, 

Whereas the hungry Spaniells she does spye 
With greedy jawes her ready for to teare: 

In such distresse and sad perplexity 

Was Florimell, when Proteus she did sec her by. 

XXXIV. But he endevored with speaches milde 
Her to recomfort, and accourage bold, 

Bidding her feare no more her foemen vilde. 

Nor doubt himselfe ; and who he was her told : 

Yet all that could not from affright her hold, 

Ne to recomfort her at ail prevayld ; 


Book III — Canto VIII 

For her faint hart was with the frosen cold 
Benumbd so inly, that her wits nij^h favld. 

And all her sences with abashment quite were qiiayld. 

XXXV. Her up betwixt his rugged hands he reard, 

And with his frory lios full softly kist, 

Whiles the cold ysickles from his rough beard 
Dropped adowne upon her yvory brest: 

Yet he him selfe so busily addrcst, 

That her out of astonishment he wrought; 

And out of that same fishers filthv nest 
Removing her, into^his charet brought, 

And there with many gentle termes her faire besought. 

XXXVI. But that old leaehour, which uith bold assault 
That beau tie durst presume to violatt‘, 

He cast to punish for his hainous fault: 

Then tooke he him, yet trembling sith of late, 

And tyde behind his charet, to aggrate 
The virgin whom he had abusde so sore; 

So drag'd him through the waves in scornfull state. 
And after cast him up upon the shore; 

But Florimell with him unto his bowre he bore. 

XXXVII. Ilis bowTe is in the bottom of the maine, 

Under a mightie rocke, gainst which floe rave 
The roring billow'es in their proud disdaine, 

That with the angry working of tlie wave 
Therein is eaten out an hollow cave, 

That seemes rough Masons hand with engines keene 
Had long while laboured it to engrave : 

There was his wonne; ne living wight v as see-.e 
Save one old Nymph, hight Panop6, to keepe it cleanc. 

xxxviii. Thither he brought the sory Florimell, 

And entertained her the best he might, 

And Panop^ her entertaind eke well, 

As an immortall mote a mortall wight. 

To winne her liking unto his delight: 

With flattering wordes he sweetly wooed her, 

And offered faire guiftes t’ allure her sight; 

But she both offers and the offerer 
Dcspysde, and all the fawning of the flatterer. 

446 The Faerie Quedoe 

xx!:rx. Dayly he tempted her with this or that, 

And never suffred her to be at rest ; 

But evermore she him refused flat. 

And all his fained kindnes did detest, 

So firmely she had sealed up her brest. 

Sometimes he boasted that a God he hight, 

But she a mortall creature loved best: 

Then he would make him selfe a mortall wight; 

But then she said she lov’d none, but a Faery knight. 

XL. Then like a Faerie knight him selfe he drest, 

For every shape on him he could endew; 

Then like a king he was to her exprest, 

And offred kingdoms unto her in vew. 

To be his Leman and his Lady trew: 

But when all this he nothing saw prevaile, 

With harder mcanes he cast her to subdew, 

And with sharpe threates her often did assayle; 

So thinking for to make her stubborne corage quayle. 

XLi. To drcadfull shapes he did him selfe transforme; 

Now like a Gyaunt; now like to a feend; 
llien like a Centaure; then like to a storme 
Raging within the waves: thereby he weend 
Her will to win unto his wished eend ; 

But when with feare, nor favour, nor with all 
He els could doe, he saw him selfe esteemd, 

Downe in a Dongeon deepe he let her fall. 

And threatned there to make her his eternall thrall. 

XLI I. Kternall thraldome was to her more liefe 
Than losse of chastitie, or chaunge of love: 

Dye had she rather in tormenting griefe 
Then any should of falsenesse her reprove. 

Or loosenes, that she lightly did remove. 

Most vertuous virgin! glory be thy meed. 

And crownc of heavenly prayse with Saintes above, 
Where most sweet hymmes of this thy famous deed 
Are still emongst them song, that far my rymes exceed. 

XLiii. Fit song of Angels caroled to bee! 

But yet whatso my feeble Muse can frame 
Shal be t’ advance thy goodly chastitee 

Booi III — Canto VIII 

And to enroll thy memorable name 
In th' heart of every honourable Dame, 

That they thy vertuous dcedcs may imitate. 

And be partakers of thy endlessc fame. 

Yt yrkes me leave thee" in this wofull slate, 

To tell of Satyrane where I him left of late. 

XLiv. Who having ended with that Srjuvre of Dames 
A long discourse of his adventures vaynt‘. 

The which himselfe then Ladies more* defames, 
And finding not th* Hyena to he sla>ne, 

With that same Scfliyre rctourned hack againc 
To his first way. And, as they forwarrl went, 
They spyde a knight fayre pricking on the playne 
As if he were on some adventure bent. 

And in his port appeared manly hardiment. 

XLV. Sir Satyrane him tow^ardes did addresse, 

To weet what wight he w^as, and what his quest; 
And, comming nigh, eftsoones he gan to gesse, 
Both by the burning hart which on his brest 
He bare, and by the colours in his en st, 

That Paridell it was. Tho to him yodo, 

And him saluting as be.secmed best, 

Gan first inquire of tydinges farre ahrode, 

And afterwardes on what adventure now he rode, 

XLVi. Who thereto answering said: “ The t\dmges had. 
Which now in Faery court all men dor irll, 

Which turned hath great mirth to mourning sad. 
Is the late ruine of proud Mannell, 

And suddein parture of fairc Florimell 
To find him forth: and after her are gone 
All the brave knightes that docn in armrs excell 
To saveguard her ywandred all alone: 

Emongst the rest my lott (unworthy’) is to be one 

XLVii. “ Ah! gentle knight,” (said then .‘^ir Satyrane) 

** Thy labour all is lost, I greatly dreari, 

That hast a thanklesse service on thee ta'ne, 

And ofTrest sacrifice unto the dead: 

For dead, I surely doubt, thou maist arcad 
Henceforth for ever Florimell to l>ce ; 

448 The Faerie Qu^ne 

That all the noble knights of Maydenhead, 

Which her ador'd, may sore repent with mee. 

And all faire Ladies may for ever sory bee/' 

XLViii. Which wordes when Paridell had heard, his hew 
Gan greatly chaunge and seemd dismaid to bee; 

Then said: “ Fayre Sir, how may I weene it trcw, 
That ye doe tell in such uncerteintee? 

Or speake ye of report, or did ye see 

Just cause of dread, that makes ye doubt so sore? 

V'or, perdie, elles how mote it ever bee. 

That ever hand should dare for to engore 

Her noble blood? The hcvens such cruel tie abhore.’ 

XLix. “ These eyes did see that they will ever rew 

T' have seene," (quoth he) “ when as a monstrous 
1 least 

The Palfrey whereon she did travell slew, 

And of his bowels made his bloody feast: 

Which speaking token sheweth at the least 
Her certeine losse, if not her sure decay; 

Besides, that more suspicion encrcast, 

I found her golden girdle cast astray, 

Dislaynd with durt and blood, as relique of the 

L. “ Ay me! " (said Paridell) “ the signes be sadd; 

And, but God turnc the same to good sooth-say. 

That Ladies safetie is sore to be dradd. 

Yet will I not forsake my forward way. 

Till triall doe more certeine truth bewray." 

" Faire Sir," (quoth he) “ well may it you succeed! 

Ne long shall Satyranc behind you stay. 

But to the rest, which in this Quest proceed, 

Aly labour adtle, and be partaker of their speed." 

LI. “ Ve noble knights," (said then the Sqiiyre of Dames) 
“ W ell may yee speede in so praiseworthy payne ! 

Ihit sith the Sunne now ginnes to slake his bcames 
In deawy vapours of the westerne mayne, 

And lose the teme out of his weary wayne. 

Mote not mislike you also to abate 
Your zealous hast, till morrow next againe 



Both light of heven and strenplh of iih'D relate: 

Which if ye please, to yonder castle turne your gate.’’ 

Lit. That coiinsell pleased well: so all yfere 
Forth marched to a Castle them before, 

Where soone arryving they restrained were 
Of ready cntrauiice, which ought evermore 
To errant knights be commune: woiidroiis sore 
'Diereat displeasd they were, till that young S(]i,) re 
Gan them informe the cause, why that same dore 
Was shut to all which lodging did desvre’ 

The which to let you weet wdl further time ici|ii\ie, 


The Faerie Que4ne 


Malb^cco will no straunge knights host, 

For peevish gealousy. 

Pandell giusts with Britomart: 

Both shew their auncestry. 

I. Redoubted knights, and honorable Dames, 

To whom I levell all my labgiurs end. 

Right sore I feare, least with unworthie blames 
This odious argument my rymes should shend, 

Or ought your goodly patience offend, 

Whiles of a wanton Lady I doe write, 

Which with her loose incontinence doth blend 
The shyning glory of your soveraine light; 

And knighthood fowle defaced by a faithlesse knight* 

li. But never let th’ ensample of the bad 
Offend the good ; for good, by paragone 
Of evill, may more notably be rad, 

As while seemes fayrer macht with blackc attone; 

Ne all are shamed by the fault of one: 

For lo ! in heven, whereas all goodnes is, 

Emongst the Angels, a whole legione 
Of wicked Sprightes did fall from happy blis; 

What wonder then if one, of women all, did mis ? 

III. Then listen, Lordings, if ye list to weet 
'rhe cause why Satyrane and Paridell 
Mote not be entertaynd, as seemed meet, 

Into that Castle, (as that Squyre does tell.) 

“ Therein a cancred crabbed Carle does dwell. 

That has no skill of Court nor courtesie, 

Ne cares what men say of him, ill or well; 

For all his dayes he drownes in privitie, 

Yet has full large to live and spend at libertie. 

IV. ** But all his minde is set on mucky pclfc. 

To hoord up heapes of cvill gotten masse. 

For which he others WTongs, and wrcckcs himselfe: 

45 ' 

Bodk III — Canto IX 


Yet is he lincked to a lovely lasse. 

Whose beauty doth her bounty far surpasse; 

The which to him both far unequall ycarcs, 

And also far unlike conditions has ; 

For she does joy to play emongst her peares. 

And to be free from hard restray nt and gealous fcares. 

V. “ But he is old, and withered like hay, 

Unfit faire Lillies service to supplv ; 

The privie guilt whereof makes liini alwav 
Suspect her truth, and keepe eontinuall spy 
Upon her with his other blinrked eye; 

Ne sufFreth he resort of living wight 
Approch to her, ne keepe her rornpany. 

But in close howre her mewes fnun all mens sight, 
Depriv’d of kindly joy and naliirall delight. 

VI. “ Malbecco he, and Hellenore she higlit; 

Unfitly yokt together in one teeme. 

That is the cause why never any knight 
Is sufFred here to enter, but he se( me 

Such as no doubt of him he neede misdecmc.” 

Thereat Sir Satvrane gan sinylt‘. and say; 

** Extremely mad the man I surely deemc, 

That weenes with watch and hard restravnt to stay 
A womans will, which is disposed to go astray. 

VII. ** In vaine he feares that which he cannot shonne , 

For who wotes not, that womans siihliltyes 

Can guvlen Argus, when she list mi^donne? 

It is not yron bandes, nor hiindrerl eyes, 

Nor bn\sen walls, nor many wakefull spyes. 

That can withhold her wilfull wandnng feet; 

But fast goodwill, with gentle courtesyes, 

And timely service to her |)loasiires meet, 

May her perhaps contiiine, that else would algates fiect. 

yiii. “ Then is he not more mad,” (^avd Faridell) 

“ That hath himselfe unto such service sold, 

In dolefull thraldome all his dayes to dw..ll? 

For sure a foole I doc him firmcly hold, 

That lo%'es his fetters, though they were of gold. 

But w'hy doc wee devise of others ill, 


The Faerie Qudiene 

Whyles thus we suffer this same dotard old 
To keepe us out in scorne, of his owne will, 

And rather do not ransack all, and him selfe kill? ” 

IX. Nay, let us first (sayd Satyrane) “ entreat 
The man by gentle meancs to let us in. 

And afterwardes affray with cruell threat, 

Ere that we to efforce it doe begin: 

Tlien, if all fayle, we will by force it win. 

And eke reward the wretch for his mcsprisc. 

As may be worthy of his haynous sin.” 

That counsell pleasd: theq.l^iridcll did rise 
And to the Castle gate approcht in quiet wise. 

X. Whereat soft knocking entrance he desyrd. 

The good man selfe, which then the Porter playd. 
Him answered, that all were now retyrd 
Unto their rest, and all the keyes convayd 
Unto their maistcr, who in bed was layd, 

That none him durst aw^ake out of his dreme; 

And therefore them of patience gently prayd. 

'rhen Paridell began to chaunge his theme. 

And threatned him with force and punishment extreme 

XI. But all in vaine, for nought mote him relent. 

And now so long before the wicket fast 

They wa> ted, that the night w'as forward spent, 

And the faire welkin fowly overcast 
Can blowen up a hitter stormy blast, 

W ith showTC and hayle so horrible and drt d, 

That this faire many were com pc Id at last 
'I'o lly for succour to a little shed. 

The which beside the gate for swyne w\\s ordered. 

xii. It fortuned, soone after they were gone, 

Another knight, whom tempest thither brought, 

('ame to that Castle, and with earnest mono, 
lake as the rest, late entrance dcare besought: 

But, like so as the rest, he prayd for nought; 

For flatly he of entrance was refusd. 

Sorely thereat he was displeased, and thought 
I low to avenge himselfc so sore abusd, 

And evermore the Carle of courtesie accusd. 


Boo^ III — Canto IX 

cm. But, to avoyde th’ intollcrabic stowre. 

He was compeld to seeke some refui-.* no.irc, 

And to that shed, to shrowd him from the showre, 

He came, which full of guests he found wlu leare 
So as he was not let to enter there: ' 

Whereat he gan to wex cxceetling wroth, 

And swore that he would lodge with them yferr. 

Or them dislodge, all were they liefe or loth ; 

And so defyde them each, and so defvrle them !>ot!i 

iiv. Both w'ere full loth to leave that n • dtull tent, 

And both full loth in ^arkenesse to debate; 

Yet both full liefe him hxiging to have lent. 

And both full liefe his l^oastinir in abate: 

But chiefely Paridell his hart did grate 
To heare him threaten so despightfullv, 

As if he did a dogge in kenell rate 
That durst not barke; and rather had he dv 
Then, when he was defyde, in cowanl cornu ly. 

XV. Tho hastily remounting to his steed 

He forth iss w'd: like as a boystnnis winde, 

Wdiich in th’ earthes liollow' raves hath long l>en hid 
An<l shut up fast w'ithm her prisons blind. 

Makes the huge t lenient, .against her kinde, 

To move and tremble as it were aghast. 

Untill that it an issew forth mav linde; 

Then forth it breakes, and with his furious bl ist 
(^jiifounds both land and scats, and skyi's dotii ovi n ast. 

vr. Their steel-lud speares they stronclv loiicht, and iik : 
Together with impetuous rage anci forse, 

That with the terrour of their fic rce afTret 
'riicy rudely drove V/ ground lK)th man .ind hor-.^, 

'I'hat each awhile lay like a m nc« lesse corse. 

But Paridell sore brused w’ith the bl(jw' 

Could not arise the counten haunge to s( orse, 

Till that young Squyre liim reared from below; 

Then drew he his bright sword, and gan .alx)ut him tirow' 

ii. But Satyrane forth stepping did them stay, 

And with faire treaty pacifide their yre. 

Then, when they were accorded from tlie fray, 

454 The Faerie Quieene 

Against that Castles Lord they gan conspire, 

To heape on him dew vcngeauncc for his hire. 

They beene agreed ; and to the gates they goe 
To burn the same with unquenchable fire, 

And that uncurteous Carle, their commune foe, 

To doe fowle death to die, or wrap in grievous woe. 

XVIII. Malbecco, seeing them resol vd indeed 

To flame the gates, and liearing them to call 
For fire in earnest, ran with fearfull speed, 

And to them calling from the castle wall, 

Besought them humbly him to beare withall, 

As ignorant of servants bad abuse 

And slackc attcndaunce unto straungers call. 

The knights were willing all things to excuse, 

Though nought belcv’d, and entraunce late did not refuse. 

XIX. They beene ybrought into a comely bowrc, 

And servd of all things that mote needfull bee; 

Yet secretly their hostc did on them lowre, 

And wclcomde more for fcarc then chantec; 

But they dissembled what they did not see, 

And welcomed themselves. Each gan undight 
Their garments wett, and weary armour free, 

To dry them selves by Vulcancs flaming light, 

And eke their lately bruzed parts to bring in plight. 

XX. And eke that straunger knight emongst the rest 
Was for like need enforst to disaray: 

Tho, wheiuis vailed wiis her lofty crest. 

Her golden locks, that were in trammells gay 
Upbounden, <lid them selves adowne display 
And raught unto her hceles; like sunny beames. 

That in a cloud their light did long time sUiy, 

Their vapour vadod, shewc their gulden gleames, 

And throiigli the persant airc shoote forth their azure 

XXI. Shec also dofte her heavy haberjeon, 

W'hich the fairc feature of her limbs did hyde; 

And her well-plighted frock, which she did won 
To tucke about her short when she did rv'de, 

Shce low let fall, that flowd from her lanck syde 
Downe to her foot with carelesse modestee. 


Boo^ III — Canto IX 


Then of them all she plainly was espyde 
To be a woman-wight, unwist to bee. 

The fairest woman-wight that ever eie did see. 

XXII. Like as Bellona (being late returnd 

From slaughter of the Giaunts conquered ; 

Where proud Encelade, whose wide nosethrils l>urnd 
With breathed flames, like to a furnace redo. 
Transfixed with her speare downe toinbled dedd 
Prom top of Hemus by him heaped hvc:) 

Hath loosd her helmet from her lofty hedil, 

And her (iorgonuin^hudd gins to untye 
PVom her lefte arme, to rest in glorious virtor\ e. 

XXIII. Which whenas they beheld, they smitten were 
With great amazement of so \vondrous sight; 

And each on other, and they all on her. 

Stood gazing, as if suddein great aflnght 
Had them surprized. At last, avi/irig right 
Her goodly personage and glorious hew, 

W'hich they so much mistooke, they tooke delight 

In their first error, and yett still anew 

With wonder of her beauty fed tlieir hongry vew. 

XXIV. Vet note their hongry vew be satisfide, 

But seeing still the more clesirM to sec, 

And e\er firmcly fixed did abide 

In contemplation of divimtce: 

But most they mcrvaild at her chevalrre 
And noble prow esse, which they luul apj)rov’d. 

That much they faynd to know who she mote bee; 

Yet none of all them her thereof amov’d 

Vet every’ one her likte, and every one her lov'd. 

XXV. And Paridell, though partly discontent 
With his late fall and fowlc indignity, 

Vet was soonc wonne his malice to relent. 

Through gratious regard of her fairr eye. 

And knightly worth which he too late did try, 

Yet tried did adore. Supper was dight; 

Then they Malbecco prayd of courtesy. 

That of his lady they might have tiu* siglit 

And company at meat, to doe them more delight. 

456 The Faerie Quei?nc 

x^vi. But he, to shifte their curious request, 

Gan causen why she could not come in place; 

Her erased helth, her late recourse to rest, 

And humid evening ill for sicke folkes cace; 

But none of those excuses could take place, 

Ne would they eate till she in presence came. 

Slice came in presence with right comely grace, 

And fairely them saluted, as became, 

And shewd her selfe in all a gentle courteous Dame. 

XXVII. They sat to meat; and Satyrane his chaunce 
Was her before, and Paricjell beside; 

But he him selfe sate looking still askaunce 
Gainst Britomart, and ever closely eide 
Sir Satyrane, that glaunces might not glide: 

But his blinde eie, that sided Paridell, 

All his demeasnure from his sight did hide: 

On her faire face so did he feede his fill, 

And sent close messages of love to her at will. 

xxviii. And ever and anone, when none was ware. 

With speaking lookes, that close embassage bore. 

He rov’d at her, and told his secret care 
For all that art he learned had of yore ; 

Ne was she ignoraunt of that Icud lore, 

But in his eye his meaning wi.scly redd. 

And with the like him aunswerd evermore. 

Shee sent at him one fyrie dart, whose hedd 
Empoisned was with privy lust and gealous dredd. 

XXIX. He from that deadly throw made no defence, 

But to the wound his weake heart opened wydo : 
The wicked engine through false influence 

Past through his eies, and secretly did glyde 
Into his heart, which it did sorely grj'de. 

But nothing new to him was that same painc, 

Ne paine at all ; for he so ofte had tryde 
The powre thereof, and lov’d so oft in vaine, 

That thing of course he counted love to entertaine. 

XXX. Thenceforth to her he sought to intimate 

His inward griefe, by mcancs to him well knowne: 
Now Bacchus fruit out of the silver plate 


Bode III — Canto IX 

He on the table dasht, as ove^th^o^^ ne, 

Or of the fruitfull liquor overflowne ; 

And by the dauncing bubbles did divine. 

Or therein write to lett his love be showne; 

Which well she redd out of the Icarnerl line; 

A sacrament pruphanc in niibter\*' of wine. 

XXXI. And, when so of his hand the pie !ge she rauglit. 

The guilty cup she fained io inisi.ike, 

And in her lap did shed her idle lirairrZhi, 

Shewing desire her inward flame to slake. 

But such close sigivs they secret w'ay did make 
Unto their wils, and one eies watch e.scape: 

Two eies him needeth, for to watch and wake, 

Who lovers will deceive. 'Hnis was the ape. 

By their laire handling, put into Mall)etcoes cape. 

XXXII. Xow, when of meats and drinks lhe\' ihi n fill, 
Purpose was moved by that gentle Dame 
Unto those knights adVenturous, to ti ll 
Of deeds of armes which unto them Imame, 

And every one his kindred and his n.une. 

Then P*indell, in whom a kindly ]>r:de 

Of gratious speach and skill his word.s to frame 

Abounded, being glad of so fitle tide 

Him to commend to her, thus spake, of al well t ide. 

xxxiil. “ Troy, that art now nought but an idle name. 

And in thine ashes buried low' dost he, 

Though whilomc far miuh gieater tlan thy, 
Before that angry Hods and < ruell skie 
Upon thee hcapt a direfull de^tinie . 

What boots it boast thy glorious iiesc nt. 

And fetch from heven thy great gem alogie, 

Sith all thv worthic prayses being bl'*nl 

Their ofspring hath embaste, and later glory shent 

XXXI v. “ Most famous Worthy of the world by whmne 
That warre was kindled which did 1 roy mflarrK, 
And stately towres of Ilion whilome 
Brought unto balefull riime, was by name 
Sir Paris far renowmd through noble f.ime; 

Who, through great prowesse and bold hardincs*e, 

45^ The Faerie QucSbne 


From Lacedaemon fetcht the fayrest Dame 
That ever Greece did boast, or knight possesse, 

Whom Venus to him gave for meed of worthinesse; 

XXXV. “ Fay re Helene, flowre of beau tie excellent. 

And girlond of the mighty Conquerours, 

That madest many Ladies deare lament 
The hcavie losse of their brave Paramours, 

Which they far off beheld from Trojan toures. 

And saw the fieldes of faire Scamander strowne 

With carcases of noble warrioiires 

Whose fruitlesse lives were under furrow sowne. 

And Xanthus sandy bankes with blood all overflowne. 

xxxvi. “ From him my linage I derive aright, 

Who long before the ten yeares siege of Troy, 

Whiles yet on Ida he a shepeheard hight. 

On faire Oenone got a lovely boy. 

Whom, for remembrance of her passed joy, 

She, of his Father, Parius did name ; 

Who, after Greekes did Priams realme destroy, 
Gathred the Trojan reliques sav^d from flame. 

And with them sayling thence to th* isle of Paros came. 

xxxvir. “ That was by him cald Paros, which before 

Hight Nausa: there he many yeares did raine, 

And built Nausicle by the Pontick shore; 

The which he dying lefte next in remaine 
To Faridas his sonne, 

From whom I Paridell by kin descend: 

But, for faire ladies love and glories gaine, 

My native soile have lefte, my dayes to spend 
In seewing deeds of armes, my lives and labors end.** 

xxxvni. Whenas the noble Britomart heard tell 
Of Trojan warres and Priams citie sackt. 

The ruefull story of Sir Paridell, 

She was empassiond at that piteous act. 

With zelous envy of Greekes cruell fact 
Against that nation, from whose race of old 
She heard that she was lineally extract; 

For noble Britons sprong from Trojans bold, 

And Troynovant was built of old Troyes ashes cold. 


Boorf III — Canto IX 

XXXIX. Then, sighing soft awhile, at last she thus : 

“ O lamentable fall of famous towne! 

Which raignd so many yeares victorious, 

And of all Asie bore the soverainc crowne. 

In one sad night consumd and throwen downe: 

What stony hart, that heares thy haplesse fate. 

Is not empierst with deepe comp;issiowne, 

And makes ensample of mans wrett hcd slate, 

That flourcs so fresh at morne, and fades at evening 

XL. “ Behold, Sir, how y#iir pitifull compl.iint 
Hath fownd another partner of your payne ; 

For nothing may impresse so deare constraint 
As countries cause, and commune foes disdaync. 

But if it should not grieve you backc agayne 
To turne your course, I would to heare desyre 
What to Aeneas fell; silh that men sayne 
He was not in the cities wofull fyre 
Consum’d, but did him selfe to safety retyre/* 

XLi. “ Anchyses sonne, begott of Venus fayre,” 

Said he, “ out of the flames for safegard fled. 

And with a remnant did to sea repayre ; 

Where he through fatall errour long wiis led 
Full manv yeares, and weetlessc wanderetl 
From shore to shore emongst the Lybick sandcs. 

Ere rest he fownd. Much there he suffered, 

And many perillcs past in forreine landes, 

To save his people sad from virlours vengefull handcs. 

XLii. “ At last in Latium he did arry’ve. 

Where he with cruell warre was entertaind 
Of th’ inland folke, which sought him backe to dnvc, 
Till he with old Latinus was constraind 
To contract wedlock, (so the fates ordaind) 

Wedlocke contract in blood, and eke in blood 
Accomplished, that many deare c()mplaind : 

The rivall slaine, the victour, through the flood 
Escaped hardly, hardly praisd his wedlock good. 

XLiii. “ Yet, after all, he victour did survive. 

And with Latinus did the kingdom part; 


The Faerie Qufcene 


But after, when both nations gan to strive 
Into their names the title to convart, 

His sonne liilus did from thence depart 
With all the warlike youth of Trojans bloud, 

And in long Alba plast his throne apart ; 

Where faire it florished and long time stoud, 

Till Romulus, renewing it, to Rome remoud.” 

XLiv. ‘‘ There; there,” (said Britomart) “ afresh appeard 
The glory of the later world to spring, 

And Troy againe out of her dust was reard 
To sitt in second seat of'^overaine king 
Of all the world, under her governing. 

But a third kingdom yet is to arise 
Out of the Trojans scattered ofspring. 

That in all glory and great enterprise. 

Both first and second Troy shall dare to equalise. 

XLV. ** It Troynovant is hight, that with the weaves 
Of wealthy Thamis washed is along. 

Upon whose stubborne neck, (whereat he raves 
With roring rage, and sore him selfe does throng) 

That all men feare to tempt his billowes strong. 

She fastned hath her foot; which stands so hy, 

That it a wonder of the world is song 
In forreine landes; and all which passen by. 
Beholding it from farre, doe thinke it threates the skye. 

XLvi. “ The Trojan Brute did first that citie fownd. 

And Hygate made the meare thereof by West, 

And Overt gate by North: that is the bownd 
Toward the land ; two rivers bownd the rest. 

So huge a scope at first him seemed best, 

To be the compasse of his kingdomes seat: 

So huge a mind could not in lesser rest, 

Ne in small meares containe his glory great, 

That Albion had conquered first by warlike feai. 

XLVii. “ Ah I fairest Lady knight,” (said Paridell) 

“ Pardon, I pray, my heedlesse oversight. 

Who had forgot that whylome I heard tell 
From aged Mnemon ; for my wits beene light. 

Indeed he said, (if 1 remember right) 


BoJk III — Canto IX 


That of the antique Trojan stocke there j^rew 
Another plant, that rauj^ht to wondrous hipht. 

And far abroad his mightie braunches threw 
Into the utmost Angle of tlie world he knew. 

XLViii. “ For that same Brute, whom mucli ht* did ad\.r.m''e 
In all his speach, was Sylvius his sonne, 

Whom having slain through luckhs arrowes glaunce, 
He fled for feare of that he had misdonne, 

Or els for shame, so fowle reproch to shonnc, 

And with him ledd to sea an youthly traync; 

Where wearie wandring they long time <Iid wonne. 
And many fortunes prov’d in th’ Ocean mavne. 

And great adventures found, that iio^s weic long to 

XLIX. At last by fatall course they driven were 
Into an Island spatious ancl brode, 

The furthest North that did to them appeare; 

Which, after rest, they, seeking farre abiode, 

Found it the fittest soyle for their abode, 

Fruitfull of all thinges fitt for living foode, 

But wholy waste and void of peoples trode, 

Save an huge nation of the Gcaunts broodc 

That fed on living flesh, and dronck mens vitall blood. 

L. “ Whom he, through wearie wars and lalKjurs long, 
Subdewd with losse of many Britons lx)ld: 

In which the great Goemagot of strong 
Corincus, and ('oulin of Debon old, 

Were overthrownc and Kiide on th’ earth full cold. 
Which quaked under their so hideous masse; 

A famous history to bee enrold 
In everlasting moniments of brassc. 

That all the anti(iue Worthies merits far did passe. 

LI. ** His worke great Troynovant, his worke is eke 
Faire Lincolnc, both renowmed far away ; 

That who from East to West will endlong scckc. 
Cannot tw'o fairer C itics find this day, 

Except Cleopolis; so heard I say 

Old Mnemon. Th.crefore, Sir, I greet you well 

Your countrey kin; and you entyrely pray 


462 The Faerie Queme 

Of pardon for the strife, which late befell 
Betwixt us both unknowne.” So ended Paridell. 

Lii. But all the while that he these speeches spent, 

Upon his lips hong faire Dame Hellenore 
With vigilant regard and dew attent, 

Fashioning worldes of fancies evermore 
In her fraile witt, that now her quite forlore: 

The whiles unwares away her wondring eye 
And greedy eares her weake hart from her bore; 
Which he perceiving, ever privily, 

In speaking many false bclgardes at her let fly. 

Liii. So long these knights discoursed diversly 
Of straunge affaires, and noble hardiment, 

Which they had past with mickle jeopardy. 

That now the humid night was farforth spent, 

And hevenly lampes were halfendeale ybrent: 

Which th’ old man seeing wel, who too long thought 
Every discourse, and every argument. 

Which by the houres he measured, besought 
Them go to rest. So all unto their bowres were brought. 

Bolk III — Canto X 


Paridcll rapolh Hellcnoro: 

Malbecci) her jH^ursewes: 

Fynds cnumRSt Satyres. N\henre with Imn 
To tunie site doth refuse*. 

The morow next, so soone as Phoebus 1 .imp 
Bewrayed had the warld with e.irlv light, 
And frcsli Aurora had the shady dam]) 

Out of the goodly heven amoved (juight, 
Faire Britomart and that same Faery kmght 
Uprose, forth on their journey for to wend: 
But Paridell complaynd, that his late Tight 
With Britomart so sore did him offend, 

That ryde he could not, till his hurts he did » 


So foorth they far’d ; but he l>ehind them sUyd, 
Maulgrc his host, who gnulged grievously 
To house a guest that would be needes obavd, 

And of his ownc him lefte not liberty : 

Might wanting measure moveth surc|ue(lrv. 

Two things he feared, but the thir<l wa, death , 
That hers youngmans unruly mayslery; 

His money, which he lov’d as living breath ; 

And his faire wife, whom honest long he kt j>t un at 

But patience perforce, he must ai)ie 
What fortune and his fate on him will lay ; 

Fond is the feare that Tmdes no remedie: 

Yet warilv he watcheth every way, 

By which he feareth evill haj>pen may; 

So th’ evill thinkes by watching to ])rrvf nt: 

Ne doth he suffer her, nor night nor dav, 

Out of his sight her selfe on< e to absent: 

So doth he punish her, and eke him selfc tun u nt. 

But Paridell kept better watch then hcc, 

A fit occasion for liis turne to findc. 

False love ! why do men say thou canst not see, 


The Faerie Que^ne 


And in their foolish fancy feigne thee blindc, 
lliat with thy charmes the sharpest sight doest binde. 
And to tliy will abuse ? Thou walkest free. 

And secst every secret of the minde ; 

Thou seest all, yet none at all sees thee: 

All that is by the working of thy Dcitee. 

V. So perfect in that art was Paridell, 

Tliat he Malbeccoes halfcn eye did wyle ; 

II is halfen eye he wiled wondrous well, 

And Hellenors both eyes did eke beguyle, 

Both eyes and hart attonce„ during the whyle 
That he there sojourned his woundes to hcalc ; 

'I'hat Cupid selfe, it seeing, close did smyle 
'lb weet how he her love away flid steale, 

And bad that none their joyous treason should reveale. 

VI. The learned lover lost no time nor tyde 
'riiat least avantage mote to him afford, 

Yet bore so faire a sayle, that none espyde 
His secret drift, till he her layd abord. 

When so in open place and commune bord 
He fortuned her to meet, with commune speach 
He courted her; yet bay ted every word, 

That his ungentle hoste nbte him approach 
Of vile ungentlenesse, or hospitages breach. 

vn. But when apart (if ever her apart) 

He found, then his false engins fast he ply<le, 

And all the sleights unbosomd in his hart: 

He sigh’d, he sobd, he swownd, he perdy dyde. 

And cast himselfc on ground her fast besyde: 

'I’ho, when againe he him bethought to li\'e, 

He wept, anti wayld, and false laments bclyde, 

Saying, but if she Mcrcie wtiuld him give, 

That he mote algatcs dye, yet did his death forgive. 

VIII. And othcnvhyles with .amorous delights 

And pleasing toyes he would her entertaine ; 

Now singing sweetly to surprize her sprights, 

Now making laves of love and lovers painc, 

Bransles, Ballads, virelayes, and verses vainc; 

Oft purposes, oft riddles, he devysd. 


Bofck III — Canto X 

And thousands like which flowed in his braino. 

With which he fed her fancy, and cntysd 

To take to his new love, and leave her old dcspvsd. 

IX. And every where he mi^ht, and cverie while, 

He did her service dewtifnll, and sewd 
At hand with humble pride and plea‘iin^r guile; 

So closely yet, that none hut she it vewd, 

Who well perceived all, and all in<lewd. 

Thus finely did he his false nets disj)red, 

With which he many weake harts hatl subtle wd 
Of yore, and many Imd ylike ini'i*‘d: 

WTiat wonder then, if she were likewise eairicd? 

X No fort so fen.sihle, no waK so strong, 

Hut that continual] battf ry ''ill rive, 

Or daily' siege, through dispurvayaunrr long 
And lacke of reskewes, will to parh'v drive; 

Anti Pcece, that unto parlev eare will give, 

Will shortly yield it sclfc, and will be inatlo 
The vassal! of tlic victors will hvlive; 

That stratageme had oftentimes assavd 

This crafty Parainoure, and now it pl.iine tlispl.iy’d: 

XI. For through his traines he her intrapped hath, 

'riuit she her love and hart hath whojv 
To him, witlKuit regard of game or si ath, 

Or care of crcdite, or of husl»and old. 

Whom she hath vow’d to dub a fayre ('Tieriurdr!. 
Nought wants but lime and pl.ur, whii h shortly shoe 
Devized hath, and to her lover told. 

It pleased well: So well they both agn e: 

So reaclic ry [^c to ill ill wemens counsc 1. Ine ! 

XII. Darke was the lA ening, fit for lovers stealth, 

W hen chaunst Malliecco busie be elsewhere, 

She to his closet went, wh^ re all his wealth 
Lay hid; thereof she tountli sse summes did rcarc, 

The which she mi ant away with her to U^arc; 

'Fhe rest she fyr*d, for sport, nr for il< spight: 

As Ih lFnc, when she saw aloft aj>peare 
The Trojane flames and roach to hevens hight, 

Did clap hi r ham.s, and joyxd at that doleful! sight. 

466 The Faerie QueVne 

^iir. This second Helene, fayre Dame Hellenore, 

The whiles her husband ran with sory haste 
To quench the flames which she had tyn’d before, 
I.aught at his foolish labour spent in waste, 

And ran into her lovers armes right fast; 

Where streight embraced she to him did cry 
And call alowd for helpc, ere helpe were past ; 

For lo I that Guest did beare her forcibly, 

And meant to ravish her, that rather had to dy. 

XIV. The wretched man hearing her call for ayd, 

And ready seeing him with her to fly. 

In his disquiet mind was much dismayd: 

But when againe he backeward cast Ids eye. 

And saw the wicked fire so furiously 
Consume his hart, and scorch his Icloles face. 

He was therewith distressed diversely, 

Nc wist he how to turne, nor to what place: 

Was never wretched man in such a wofull cace. 

XV. Ay when to him she cryde, to her he turnd. 

And left the fire; love money overcame: 

But, when he marked how his money burnd. 

He left his wife; money did love (list lame: 

Both was he loth to loose his loved l)«ime. 

And loth to leave his liefest pclfe bchindc; 

Yet, sith he n'otc save both, he sav’d that same 
Which was the dearest to his dounghill minde. 

The God of his desire, the joy of misers blinde. 

XVI. 'riuis whilest all things in troublous uprore were. 
And all men busie to suppresse the flame. 

The loving couple nceile no reskew fcarc, 

But Icasurc had and lil)erty to frame 
Their jnirpost flight, free from all mens reclame; 
And Night, the patroncsse of love-stealth fayre, 
Gave them safe conduct, till to end they came. 

So l>ecne they gone yfere, a wanton payre 
Of lovers loosely knit, where list tlum to repay rc. 

XVII. Soone as the cruel I flames yslakcd were, 

Malbecco, seeing how his lossc did lye. 

Out of the flames which he had quencht whylcrc. 


Bo^k III — Canto X 

Into huge waves of gri-. fe and gealosv^' 

Full decpe emplongcd w;is, and drowned nvc 
Twixt inward doole and frlonous dc^pil:ht : 

He rav’d, he wept, he stampt, he lowd did cry, 

And all the passions that in man mav liglit 
Did him attonce oppresse, and vex his caytivc 5pri;^!il. 

will. Long thus he chawd the cud of inw. ul gnefe, 

And did consume gall with anguish sore: 

Still when he mused on his late mischiefe, 

Then still the smart thereof increased more. 

And seemd more grievous then it was hefrre. 

At last when scjrrow fie saw hooted nought. 

Ne griefe miglit not his love t(» him resture. 

He gan device how her he reskrw imnighl: 

Ten thousand wa\es he cast in his lontused thoug! t. 

XIX, At last resolving, like a Pilgrim j)ore, 

To seareli her forth where so she might l>t* fon<l. 

And hearing with him tre.isure in c Insr stole. 

The rest he lea\cs m ground: So t.tKc s in bond 
To seeke lur endlong both In* sea and loud. 

Long he her sought, he souglit her far and nere, 

And every where that he mote understond 
Of knights and ladies any meetings wi re. 

And of each one he melt lie tidings did in<j’ ( . 

XX. Ihit all in vaine: his w'oiuan w;*-- Tn(, w . _ 

Ever to come into his < lom h .igaiiu , 

And hee too simj»Ie ever to surprise 

The jolly ]\iridell, for all his p.iine. 

One day, as hee forpassed h\ the j»Iamc 
With weary pace, lie far awav esjjuje 
A couple, setmmg well to hi- hi^ t\..i]ne, 

Which hoved <*lose under a forest si<le, 

As if they lay in wait, or els them selves did hide. 

XXI. Well weened hee that those the same mole l>er*; 

And as he better did their shape avi/c, 

Him seemed more their maner did agr^ e; 

For th’ one was armed all in warlike wi/x, 

Whom to he Pandell he did devize: 
vVnd th’ other, al yclad in garment:) light 

468 The Faerie Que^ne 

Discololird like to womanish disguise. 

He did resemble to his lady bright; 

And ever his faint hart much earned at the sight: 

xxir. And over faine he towards them would goe, 

But yet durst not for dread approchen rue, 

But stood aloofe, unweeting what to doe; 

Till that prickt forth with loves extremity 
That is the father of fowle gealosy, 

He closely nearer crept the truth to weet: 

Ihit, as he nigher drew, he easily 

Might scerne that it was not his sweetest sweet, 

Ne yet her Belamour, the ‘partner of his sheet: 

xxTir. But it was scorncfull Braggadochio, 

That with his servant Trompart Iroverd there, 

Sith late he fled from his too earnest foe : 

Whom such whenas Malbecco spyed clere, 

He turned backe, and would have fled arere. 

Till Trompart, ronning hastely, him did stay. 

And bad before his soveraine Lord ap[)ere. 

That was him loth, yet durst he not gainesay, 

And comming him before low louted on the lay. 

XXIV. The l>oaster at him stcrncly bent his browc, 

As if he could have kild him with his looke, 

That to the ground him meckely made to bo wo. 

And awfull terror deepe into him strooke, 

That every member of his body quooke. 

Said he, “ 'rhou man of nought, what docst thou here 
Unfitly furnislit with thy Ixig and booke, 

\\ here I expected one with shield and spere 
To prove some deeds of armes upon an equall perc? ” 

XXV. The wretched man at his imperious spcach 
Was all abasht, and low prostrating said: 

“ Good Sir, let not my rudenes be no l>reach 
Unto your patience, ne be ill ypaid; 

For r unwares this way by fortune straid, 

A silly Pilgrim driven to distresse, 

That sceke a Lady — ^'Fhere he suddein staid. 

And did the rest with grievous sighes suppresse. 

While teares stood in his eies, few drops of bittemesse. 

Bo^k III — Canto X 469 

XXVI. What I^idy, man ? ' (saiM 'Fromparl^ “ Like good h.iri 
And tell thy griefe. if any hidden Ive: 

W as never hotter time to shew thv sm.irt 
Then now that noble ‘^neeor is thee 1»\ , 

That is the whole woilds eomniiine remed\ . ' 

That chearfiil word his weak heart miieh did cheare 
And with \aine ht>pe his spirits faint supplv. 

That hold he sayd ; “Q most redonl^itd Tire' 

\ ouchsafe with mild regard a wrt*iehes i aee to heart* 

XXVII. Then sighing sore, “ It is not long.*' ts.ode hee) 

Sith I enjo\d the gentlest hame alive; 

Of whom a knight.'no knight at all perdee, 

But shame of all that tlot for hiinoi stri\ e. 

By treaeheroiis deeeipt did me iltpii\( 

Tlirough open outrage he her bore a\\.i\ . 

And with fowle foree unto his uill did drive; 

Which al good knights, that arnu s riot* this d.iv 
Are bowntl for to revenge, anil j)unish if thev nia\ 

xxviii. “ And you, most nobh* Loid, tliat tan and dart 
Redresse the wrong of miserable wight. 

Cannot cm[)l( 0 ' vour most \ a lorious spr . u 
In belter tjuarell then delerue of riL’ht. 

And for a Liulv gainst a faithlesst knikdi’ 

So shall \our gl«>rv bee .ubaiirued min h. 

And all faire Latin's magnifv ..eir inrdit 
And eke my selft*, alb(*e I snii}>ii set !i. 

Vour worthy jjaine shall wel rt w ar*! vsilh ,gi:t rdon rn h 

XXIX. With that out of his boiiget forth In drew 

(ireal store of treasure, therewith him to timpt, 

Ihit he on it lookt sconn fiillv aslsr w . 

As much disdeigning to be so mi^ lt inpl, 

Or a war monger to be baseK in nipt; 

And savd ; “ d'li\ offt-rs base I greallv’ loth, 

Anri eke thv w'ords uncourteous and unkem[>t 
1 tread in dust thee and thv moin v both. 

That, were it nr^t for shame *' .^o imnrrl from him 


XXX. But Trompart, that his maisin s humor ki^c*-. 

In lofty looks to hirle an humble miinie, 

Was inly tickled with that golden vcw'. 

476 The Faerie Que^ne 

And in his eare him rownded close behinde: 

Yet stoupt he not, but lay still in the winde. 

Waiting advauntage on the pray to sease, 

Till Trompart, lowly to the grownd inclinde. 

Besought him his great corage to appease. 

And pardon simple man that rash did him displease. 

XXXI. Big looking like a doughty Doucepere, 

At last he thus; ** Thou clod of vilest clay, 

I pardon yield, and with thy rudenes beare; 

But weete henceforth, that all that golden pray. 

And all that els the vaine^world vaunten may, 

I loath as doung, ne deeme my dew reward : 

Fame is my meed, and glory vertues pay : 

But minds of mortall men are muchell mard 

And mov’d amisse with massy mucks unmeet regard. 

xxxii. ** And more: I graunt to thy great misery 

Gratious respect; thy wife shall backe be sent: 

And that vile knight, who ever that he bee, 

Which hath thy lady reft and knighthood shent. 

By Sanglamort my sword, whose deadly dent 
The blood hath of so many thousands shedd, 

I sweare, ere long shall dearely it repent; 

Nc he twixt heven and earth shall hide his hedd, 

But soone he shal be fownd, and shortly doen be dedd.'* 

XXXIII. The foolish man thereat woxe wondrous blith. 

As if the word so spoken were halfe donne. 

And humbly thanked him a thousand sith 
That had from death to life him newly wonne. 

Tho forth the Boaster marching brave begonne 
His stolen steed to thunder furiously. 

As if he heaven and hell would over-ronne. 

And all the world confound with cruelty; 

That much Malbecco joyed in his jollity. 

XXXI V. Thus long they three together travelled, 

Through many an wood and many an uncouth way. 
To seeke his wife that was far wandered : 

But those two sought not but the present pray, 

To weete, the treasure which he did bewray. 

On which their eies and harts were wholly sett. 

47 * 

Bo^k III — Canto X 

With purpose how they might it best betray ; 

For, sith the howre that first he did them lett 
The same behold, therwith their keene desires were 

Kxxv. It fortuned, as they together far’d. 

They spide where Pandell came pricking fast 
Upon the plainer the which him scifc preparVl 
To guist with that brave straungcr knight a cast, 

As on adventure by the way he past, 

Alone he rode without his Paragone; 

For, having filcht her bolls, her up he <*ast 
To the wide world, and lett her fly aloin*: 

He nould be clogd. So had he served many one. 

XXXVI. The gentle Lady, loose at randon leftc, 

The grecnc-wood long did walke, and wander wi Ic 
At wilde adventure, like a forlornc wefte; 

Till on a day the Satyres her espide 
Straying alone withouten groome or guide: 

Her up they tooke, and with them home her ledd, 
With them as housewife ever to abide, 

To milk their gotes, and make them cheese an*! hredd ; 
And every one as commune good her handeled 

XXXVII. That shortly she Malbccco has forgot t, 

And eke Sir Paridcll, all were lie (leart ; 

W’ho from her went to sceke another lott, 

And now by fortune was arrived here, 

Where those two guilers witli Malherro w'( re. 

Soone as the old man saw Sir Pariritll, 

He fainted, and w'as almost dead with fearc, 

Ne word he had to speake his griefe to tell, 

But to him loiited low, and greeted goodly well; 

>cxxviii. And, after, asked him for Hellenore: 

“ I take no keepe of her/’ (say*! Paridell) 

“ She wonneth in the forrest there l>efore.*' 

So forth he rode as his adventure fell ; 

The whiles the Boaster from hLs loftic sell 
Faynd to alight, something amisse mend; 

But the fresh Swayne would not his leasure dwell, 

But went his way: whom when he passed kend, 

He up remounted light, and after faind to w'end. 

472 The Faerie Quc^nc 


xxxix. Pcrdy, nay/’ (said Malbecco) “ shall ye not; 

* But let him passe as lightly as he came: 

For litle good of him is to be got, 

And mickle perill to bee put to shame. 

But let us goe to seeke my dearest Dame, 

Whom he hath left in yonder forest wyld ; 

For of her safety in great doubt I ame, 

T.east salvage beastes her person have despoyld : 

7’hcn all the world is lost, and we in vaine have toyld ” 

XL. They all agree, and forward them addresse : 

Ah! but,” (said crafty Trompart) ” weete ye well. 
That yonder in that wastefull wildcrnesse 
Huge monsters haunt, and many dangers dwell; 
Dragons, and Minotaures, and feendes of hell, 

And many wilde woodmen which robbe and rend 
All traveilcrs: therefore advise ye well 
Before ye enterprise that way to wend : 

One may his journey bring too soone to evill end.” 

XLi. Malbecco stopt in great astonishment. 

And with pale eyes fast fixed on the rest, 

Their counscll crav’d in daunger imminent. 

Said Trompart; “ You, that are the most opprest 
With bnrdein of great treasure, I thinke best 
Here for to stay in safetie bchynd: 

My i.ord and 1 will search the wide forest.” 

That couiisell pleased not Malbeccoes mynd, 

For he was much afraid him selfe alone to fynd. 

XLI I. ” Then is it best,” (said he) ” that ye doe leave 
Your treasure lie re in some security. 

Either last closed in some hollow greave, 

Or buried in the ground from jeopardy, 

Till we returne againe in safety : 

As for us two, least doubt of us ) e have. 

Hence farre away we will blyndfolded ly, 

Ne privy bee unto your treasures grave.” 

It pleased ; so he did. Then the\' march forward brave. 

XLiii. Now, when amid the thickest woodes they were, 

They heard a noysc of many bagpipes shrill, 

And shrieking Hububs them approching nerc. 

Which all the forest did with horrour fill. 


Bopk III — Canto X 


That dreadfull sound the bosters hart did thrill 
With such amazment, that in hast he lledd, 

Ne ever looked back for good or ill ; 

And after him eke fearefull Trompart spedd: 

The old man could not lly, but fell to ground half dedd. 

XLiv. Vet afterwardcs, close creeping as hr might, 

He in a bush did hydc his fearefiill h. \S. 

'rhe jolly Satyres, full of fresh delight. 

Came (launcing forth, and with them nimhlv ledd 
Faire Helcnore with girlonds all bespredd, 

Whom their May-lady ihev had newlv made; 

She, proude of that ifew honour which ihev redd, 

And of their lovely fellowship full gl.ifle, 

Daunst lively, and her face did with a I^awrell shade. 

XLV. The silly man that in the thickett lav 

Saw all this goodly sport, and grieved sore; 

\\ t durst he not against it doe or sa> , 

Hut did his hart with bitter thoughts engore. 

To see th' iinkindnes of his Hellenore 
All day they daunced with great lust\ hedd, 

And with their horned feet the greene gras wore, 

The whiles their Ootes uj>on the bronzes fe»Id, 

Till drouping Hhcebus gan to hyde his golden hedd. 

XLVi. 'J'ho up they gan their merv pypes to truss*-. 

And all their goodlv heardes did gather rownd; 

Hut ever) Sat\re first did give a busse 
lb Hellenore ; so busses did abound 
Now gan the humid vaponr shed the growiul 
With perly deaw, and th’ Jhirlhes ghjonn vhade 
Hid dim the brightnessc of the welkin rownd. 

That every bird and beast av\arncd made 

To shrowd themselves, whiles sleef)#* their sen* esrlid invade 

xcvii. Which when Malbet ( o saw, out of the bush 
Upon his handcs and fcele he crcj)t full light, 

And like a Ciote emongst the (iot*^ flid rush; 

That, through the helpc of his faire horrus on bight, 
And misty dampe of mi>.cunc'evving night. 

And eke ihrougli hkene.sse of his golish Ix^ard, 

He flid the better (ountcrfeite aright: 

So home he m.ircht emongst tie* iiorned ij< ard, 

That none of all the Satyres hmi espyde or heard. 

474 The Faerie Queqne 


XLi^iii. At night, when all they went to sleepe, he vewd 
Whereas his lovely wife emongst them lay. 
Embraced of a Satyre rough and rude. 

Who all the night did minde his joyous play: 

Nine times he heard him come aloft ere day. 

That all his hart with gealosy did swell; 

But yet that nights ensample did bewray 
That not for nought his wife them loved so well, 
When one so oft a night did ring his matins bell. 

XLix. So closely as he could he to them crept. 

When wearie of their spout to sleepe they fell. 

And to his wife, that now full soundly slept. 

He whispered in her earc, and did her tell 
That it was he which by her side did dwell; 

And therefore prayd her wake to heare him plaine. 
As one out of a dreame not waked well 
She tumd her, and returned back againe; 

Yet her for to awake he did the more constraine. 

L. At last with irkesom trouble she abrayd; 

And then perceiving that it was indeed 
Her old Malbecco, which did her upbrayd 
With loosenesse of her love and loathly deed, 

She was astonisht with exceeding dreed, 

And would have wakt the Satyre by her syde; 

But he her prayd, for mercy or for meed. 

To save his life, ne let him be descryde. 

But hearken to his lore, and all his counsell hyde. 

LI. Tho gan he her pcrswade to leave that lewd 
And loathsom life, of God and man abhord. 

And home retume, where all should be renewd 
With perfect peace and bandes of fresh accord. 
And she receivd againe to bed and bord. 

As if no trespas ever had becne donne: 

But she it all refused at one word, 

And by no meanes would to his will be wonnc, 

But chose emongst the jolly Satyres still to wonne. 

LI I. He wooed her till day-spring he espyde, 

But all in vaine ; and then tumd to the heard. 
Who butted him with homes on every syde, 

Boi>k III — Canto X 4 

And trode downe in the durt, where his hore beard 
Was fowly dighc, and he of death afeard. ' 

Early, before the heavens fairest light 
Out of the ruddy East was fully reanl. 

The heardes out of their foldes were loosed c]iiii;ht. 
And he emongst the rest crept forth in sory pl^ht. 

Liii. So soone as he the Prison-dore did pas, 

He ran as fast as both his feet could iH'.ire, 

And never looked who Ijehind him was, 

Ne scarsely who before: like as a Bcare, 

That creeping clos^ amongst the hives it» rcarc 
An hony-combe, the wakcfull dogs esps , 

And him assayling sore his carkas teare, 

That hardly he with life away does fly, 

Ne stay'es, till safe him sclfe he sec from jeopardy* 

Liv. Ne stayd he, till he came unto the place 
Where late his treiisure he entombed had ; 

Where when he found it not, (for Tromparl bace 
Had it purloyned for his maistcr bad) 

With extreme fury he became quite ma 1, 

And ran away, ran with him selfe away ; 

That who so straungely had him scene lH*sUidd, 
With upstart haire and staring eyes dismay, 

From Limbo lake him late escaped sure would say. 

LV. High over hillcs and over dales he flrdd, 

As if the wind him on his winges had borne; 

Ne banck nor bush could stay him, when he spedd 
His nimble feet, as treading still on thornc: 

Griefe, and despight, and gealosy, and scornc, 

Did all the way him follow hard behynd ; 

And he himselfe himselfc loath M so forlorne, 

So shamefully forlorne of womankynd, 

ITiat, as a Snake, still lurked in his wounded mynd. 

Lvi. Still fled he forward, looking backward still; 

Ne stayd his flight nor fearcfull agony. 

Till that he came unto a rocky hill 
Over the sea suspended dreadfully. 

That living creature it would terrify 
To looke adowne, or upward to the hight: 

476 The Faerie Quefne 


From thence he threw him sclfe despiteously. 

All desperate of his fore-damned spright, 

That seemd no help for him was left in living sight. 

LVii. But through long anguish and selfe-murdring thought, 
lie was so wasted and forpincd quight. 

That all his substance was consum’d to nought, 

And nothing left but like an aery Spright, 

That on the rockes he fell so flit and light. 

That he thereby receiv’d no hurt at all; 

But chaiinced on a craggy cliff to light, 

Whence he with crooked clawes so long did crall. 

That at the last he found a cave with entrance small. 

LViii. Into the same he creepes, and thenceforth there 
Resolv’d to build his l3alefull mansion 
In drery darkenes and continuall feare 
Of that rocks fall, which ever and anon 
d'hrcates with huge mine him to fall upon. 

That he dare never slcepc, but that one eye 
Still ope he keepes for that occasion; 

Ne ever rests he in tranquillity, 

The roring bi Howes beat his bowre so boystrously. 

Lix. Ne ever is he wont on ought to feed 

But todes and frogs, his pasture poysonous. 

Which in his cold complexion doe breed 
A filthy blood, or humour rancorous, 

Matter of doubt and dread suspitious. 

That doth with curelesse care consume the hart. 
Corrupts the stomacke with gall vitious, 

Cros-cuts the liver with internall smart, 

And doth transfixe the soule with deathes eternall dart. 

LX. Vet can he never dye, but dying lives, 

And doth himselfe with sorrow new sustaine, 

'I hat death and life attonce unto him gives, 

And painefull pleasure turncs to pleasing paine. 

'Ihere dwels he ever, miserable swaine, 

Ifatefull both to him selfe and every wight; 

^^’here he, through privy griefe and horroiir vaine. 

It woxen so deform’d that he has quight 
Forgot he \\as a man, and Gelosy is hight. 

Bocjk III — Canto XI 



Pritomart chaceih; 

Findes Sciuiainoiir ciKtresl. 

Assayes the house Hiis\ rane. 

Where loves spovles are expre-st 

I. O HATEFULL hellish Snake! what fiirie fiirst 
Brought thee from bi^lefull house of Proserpine, 
Where in her bosome she thee long had luirsl. 

And fostrcd up with bitter nulke of line, 

Fowle Gealosy ! that turnest love divine 
To joylesse dread, and mak’st the lo\ ing hart 
W’ith hatcfull thoughts to languish and to pine, 

And feed it selfe with sclfe-ronsuming smart ^ 

Of all the passions in the mind thou \ ilest art ! 

II. O! let him far be banished away, 

And in his stead let Ia>ve for ever dwell ; 

Sweete Love, that doth his golden wings embav 
In blessed Nectar and pure Pleasures well. 

Untroubled of vile feare or bitter fell. 

And ye, faire I^idics, that your kingdomes ni.ike 
In th’ harts of men, them governe wisely well, 

And of faire Pritomart ensarnple l.ike, 

That was as trew' in love as Turtle to her make. 

III. Who with Sir Satyrane, as earst \e retl. 

Forth ryding from Mallnccoes hostlesse hoiis, 

Far off a.spyde a young man, the which fletl 
PVorn an huge (Jeaunt, that with hid» oiis 
And hatcfull outrage long him cha(e<J thus; 

It was that Ollyphant, the brother deare 

Of that Argantii \ ilc and vitious. 

From whom the S(|uyrc of Dames was reft whvlerc 
'Phis all as bad as she, and worse, if worse ought were, 

IV. For as the sister did in feminine 

And filthy lust exceerle all womankindc. 

So he surpassed his sex masculine, 


4/8 The Faerie Que^ne 


In beastly use, all that I ever finde: 

Whom when as Britomart beheld behinde 
The fearefull boy so greedily poursew, 

She was emmoved in her noble minde, 

T* employ her puissaunce to his reskew, 

And pricked fiercely forward where she did him vew. 

V. Ne was Sir Satyrane her far behinde. 

But with like ficrcenessc did ensew the chace. 

Whom when the Gyaunt saw, he soone resinde 
His former suit, and from them fled apace: 

They after both, and boldly bad him bace. 

And each did strive the other to outgoe; 

But he them both outran a wondrous space. 

For he was long, and swift as any Roe, 

And now made better speed t' escape his feared foe. 

VI. It was not Satyrane, whom he did feare, 

But Britomart the flowre of chastity ; 

For he the powre of chaste hands might not bearo. 
But alwayes did their dread encounter fly: 

And now so fast his feet he did apply, 

That he has gotten to a forrest neare. 

Where he is shrowded in security. 

The wood they enter, and search everie where; 

They searched diversely, so both divided were. 

VII. Fayre Britomart so long him followed. 

That she at last came to a fountaine shtar, 

By which there lay a knight all wallowed 
Upon the grassv ground, and by him neare 
H is haberjeon, his helmet, and his speare: 

A little off his shield was rudely throwne, 

On which the winged boy in colours cleare 
Dcpeincted was, full easie to be knowne, 

And he thereby, where ever it in field was shownc. 

viiT. His face upon the grownd did groveling ly, 

As if he had beene slombring in the shade ; 

That the brave Mayd would not for courtesy 
Out of his quiet slomber him abrade, 

Nor seeme too sudileinly him to invade. 

Still as slie stood, she heard with grievous thiob 


Book III — Canto XI 


Him grone, as if his hart were peeccs made. 

And with most painefull pangs to sigh and soh, 

That pitty did the Virgins hart of patience rob! 

IX. At last forth breaking into bitter plaintes 

Hesayd; “ O soverayne Lord ! that sit’st on hve 
And raignst in blis emongst thy blessed Saintes^ 

How sufTrest thou such shamefull crueltv 
So long unwreaked of thine enimy ? 

Or hast thou, Lord, of good mens caii’^c no heed ? 

Or doth thy justice sleepc and silent Iv ? 

What booteth then the good and righteous deed, 

If goodnesse find no grace, nor righteousnes no meed ^ 

X. “ If good find grace, and righteousnes rewaril, 

Why then is Amoret in cay live band, 

Sith that more bounteous creature never far’d 
On foot upon the face of living land? 

Or if that hcvenly justice may withstaiKi 
Tlie wrongfull outrage of unrighteous men, 

Why then is Husirane with wicked hand 
Suffred, these seven monethes day, in s(t rct den 
My Lady and my love so cruelly to pin ! 

XI. “ My Lady and my love is cruelly jx'ml 
In dolefull darkenes from the vew' of dav, 

Whilest dea<ily torments doe her chast bre^t r»‘ncl, 

And the sharpe steele doth rive her hart in tway, 

All for she Scudamore will not denay. 

Yet thou, vile man, vile .Scudamore, art soun<l, 

Ne canst her ayde, ne canst her foe dismay ; 

Unw'orthy wtcU h to tread upon the ground, 

For whom so fairc a I^dy fecks so son* a wound ! ’* 

XII. Tliere an huge heape of singulis dirl oppress 

His strugling soule, and swelling throbs empea< h 
His foltring toung with pangs of drerinesse, 

Choking the remnant of his plaintife spcach. 

As if his dayes were come to their last n ai h: 

WTiich w'hen she heard, and saw the ghastly fit 
Threatning into his life to make a breach, 

Both with great ruth and terrour she was smit, 

Fearing least from her cage the wearic soule would flit. 

480 The Faerie Queene 

XIII. , 'fho stouping clowne she him amoved light; 

'Who, therewith somewhat starting, up gan looke. 

And seeing him behind a stranger knight, 

Whereas no living creature he mistooke, 

With great indignaunce he that sight forsooke. 

And, downe againe himselfe disdainfully 
Abjecting, th’ earth with his faire forhead strooke: 
Which the bold Virgin seeing gan apply 
Fit medcine to his griefe, and spake thus courtesly : — 

XIV. “ Ah gentle knight! whose deepe conceived griefe 
Well seemes t* exceede the pcwre of patience. 

Yet, if that hevenly grace some goode rcliefe 
You send, submit you to high providence ; 

And ever in your noble hart prepense, 

That all the sorrow in the world is lesse 
Then vcrtues might and values confidence: 

For who nill hide the burden of distresse, 

Must not here thinke to live; for life is wrctchedncssc. 

XV. “ Therefore, faire Sir, doc comfort to you take, 

And freely read what wicked felon so 

Hath outrag’d you, and thrald your gentle make. 

Perhaps this hand may helpe to ease your woe. 

And wreakc your sorrow on your cruell foe; 

At least it faire endevour will apply.” 

Those feeling words so neare the quicke did goe. 

That up his head he reared easily, 

And, leaning on his ellx)we, these few words lett fly. 

XVI. “ What boots it plaine that cannot Ik; redrest. 

And sow vaine sorrow in a fruitlesse eare, 

Sith powre of hand, nor skill of learned brest, 

Ne worldly price, cannot redeeme my deare 
Out of her thraldome and continuall feare: 

For he, the tyrant, which her hath in ward 
By strong enc hauntments and blackc Magi< ke leare, 
ll.ith in a dungeon deepK* her close embard. 

And many dreadfull feends hath pointed to her gard. 

XVII. “ There he tormenteth her most te ribly 

And day and night alllicts with mortall paine. 

Because to yield him love she doth deny. 

Book III — Canto XI 481 

Once to me yold, not to be yoltk* aj:;iine : 

But yet by torture he would her constrainc 
Love to conceive in her disdainfiill brcst; 

Till so she doe, she must in doole remaine. 

Ne may by living meancs be thence relest : 

What boots it then to plainc that cannot be redri sl? 

xviii. With this sad hersall of his heavy strc^^e 
The warlike Dam/ell was emp.issiond sore. 

And saycl; “ Sir knight, your cause is nothing lesse 
Then is your sorrow certes, if not inon* . 

For nothing so much pitty doth implore 
As gentle Ladyes haplesse miserv; 

But yet, if please ye listen to m\ lore, 

I will, with j^roofe of last ext remit) , 

Deliver her fro thence, or with lu r tor you dv. 

XIX. ** Ah! gentlest knight alive,’' (sayd S(udam«»n ) 

“ W’hat huge heron ke maunanimitv 

Dwells in thy bounteous brest! what < on Id si thou more, 

Jf shee wer(‘ thine, and thou as now am I ^ 

O! spare thy happy <iai< s, and tliem applv 
To better boot; but h t me die that onuhl; 

Mtire is more losse; one is emmirh tf» ds 
“ Life is not lost,” (said she) “ for ulu»h is bonglU 
Endlesse renowm, that, more then flt.ith, i'> to bt nought 

XX. Thus shee at k ngth persuadt<l him to ri.e. 

And with Ikt wind to .set* what neu sij< ( i s>e 
Mote him befall upon m w' ent« rpii^ . 

Ilis armes, which he had vowed to disprofrsse, 

She gathered up and dnl about him dn - ( , 

And Ids forwandred ste ed unto him gott : 

So forth they forth yh re make lh»‘ir progn ^sc*, 

And march not pitst the mountc naunee of a ''liott, 

Till they arriv'd whereas their piirj>osc thi y did jdott. 

XXI. There they dismounting drew' tin ir we apons bold. 

And stoutly came unto the ('astle gate, 

Whereas no gate they found them to withhold, 

Nor w'ard to waitc at morne and evening late; 

But in the Porch, that did them sort* amate, 

A flaming fire, ymixt with smuuldr) smoke 

482' The Faerie Que^ne 

And stinking sulphure, that with gnesly hate 
And dreadfull horror did all entraunce choke, 

Enforced them their forward footing to revoke. 

XXII. Greatly thereat was Britomart dismay d, 

Ne in that stownd wist how her selfe to bearc; 

For daunger vaine it were to have assayd 
That crucll element, which all things feare, 

Ne none can suffer to approchen nearer 
And, turning backe to Scudamour, thus sayd; 

What monstrous enmity provoke we heare? 

Foolhardy as th’ Earthes children, the which made 
Batteill against the Gods, so we a God invade. 

XXIII. “ Daunger without discretion to attempt 

Inglorious, beastlike is: therefore. Sir knight, 

Areacl what course of you is safest dempt, 

And how he with our foe may come to fight.” 

“ This is ” (quoth he) ** the dolorous despight, 

Which earst to you I playnd: for neither may 
This fire be quencht by any witt or might, 

Ne yet by any meanes remov’d away ; 

So mighty be th’ enchauntments which the same do stay. 

XXIV. “ What is there ells but cease these fruitlesse paines, 

And leave me to my former languishing.^ 

Fairc Amorett must dwell in wicked chaines, 

And Scudamore here die with sorrowing.” 

“ Perdy not so,” (saide shoe) “ for shameful thing 
Vt were t’ abandon noldc chevisaiince 
For shewe of perill, without venturing: 

Rather let try extremities of chaunco, 

Then enterprised praise for dread to disavaunce.” 

XXV. Therewith, resolv’d to prove her utmost might, 

Her ample shield she threw before her face. 

And her swords point directing forward right 
Assayld the flame ; the which eftesoones gave place, 

And did it selfe divide with equall space. 

That through she passed, as a thonder bolt 
Perceth the yielding ayre, and doth di.splacc 
The soring clouds into sad showres ymolt; 

So to her yold the flames, and did their force revolt. 

Book III — Canto XI 4S3 

XXVI. Whom whcn^ Scudamour saw the fire 
Safe and untoucht, he likewise gan assay 
With greedy will and envious dcsir *. 

And bad the stubbome flames to yitki him way: 

But cniell Mulciber would not obav 
His threatfull pride, but ilkl the more augment 
His mighty rage, and with imperious sway 
Him forst, (maulgrc) his fercenes to relent, 

And backe retire, all scorcht and pittifully brent. 

XXVII. With huge impatience he inly swell, 

More for great sorrow that he could not pis 
Then for the burning torment which he it It; 

That with fell woodnes he efiiereed was, 

And wilfullv him throwing on the 

Did beat and bounse his head and brest ful sore: 

The whiles the Championessc now’ < ntred has 
The utmost rowme, and past the forelno^l d.»re; 

The utmost rowme abounding with all pret lous store; 

XXVIII. For round about the walls yrlothcd w ere 
W'ith goodly arras of great majesty. 

Woven with gold and silke, so ( lose and m .c 
That the rich metall lurked pnvily. 

As faining to he hidd from envious eve; 

Yet here, and there, and every where, unwarcs 
It shewd it sclfe and shone unw’illingly ; 

Like a discoloured Snake, whose hidden snares 
Through the grecne gras his long bright burnisht b:ick 

XXIX. And in those Tajiets weren fashumed 

Many faire poiirtraicts, and many a (.ore feate; 

And all of love, and al of lusty-hed. 

As seemed by their semblaunt, did entre,it : 

And eke all Cupids warres they di<i 

And cruell battailes, which he whilome fought 

Gainst all the God^ to make his empire great; 

Besides the huge massaercs, whi< li he wrouglit 
On mighty kings and kesars into thraldome brr)ught. 

XXX. Therein was writt how often tliondrmg b>ve 
Had felt the point of his hart-percing dart. 

And, leaving heavens kingdome, here d-d rove 


The Faerie Queqne 


In straiinge disguize, to slake his scalding smart; 
Now, like a Ram, faire Plclle to pervart, 

Now, like a Bull, Kiiropa to withdraw: 

Ah! how the fearefull Ladies tender hart 
Did lively seeme to tremble, when she saw 
The luige seas under her t’ obay her servaunts law. 

XX \T. Soone after that, into a golden showre 

Him selfe he chaung’d, faire Danae to vew; 

And through the roofe of her strong ]3rasen towre 
Did raine into her lap an bony dew ; 
d'lie whiles her foolish gardjt', that litle knew 
Of suf'h de(‘(‘ij)t, kej)t th’ yron dore fast bard. 

And wat( ht that none should enter nor issew; 

\’ame was the w'atrh, and bootlesse all the ward, 
Whenas tlie (jod to golden hew him stdfe transfard. 

XXXII. 'riH'ii was Ik* turnd into a snowy Swan, 

To will faire Leda U) his lovely trade: 

() wondrous skill’ and sweet w'lt of the man, 
d'hat her m daffadilhes sleeping madt* 

1^'rom soon hmg heat her damtie hmbes to sliade ; 
Whiles the proud Bird, rufhng his fet)u‘rs w \’dc* 

And l>rushing his faire brest, did her invade: 

She slej)t, yet twi\t her eielids fdoselv sp\ de 
How towaids her he nisht, and sniih'd at his pr\ de. 

xxxin. 'Then shewd it how' the 'riiebane Semel(*e, 

Dei'eiv'd of gealous ]uno, did n*(]uire 
d'o SCI* him in his so\ (*raviK* maieslee 
Aimd wath his tlumdei hnll^ and lightniiiL: fire, 
W'hens dcsirelv she with death bought her desire. 
But faire Ak inena better m.ilt h did maki*, 

Joving his lo\e m hkeiies mon* I'lUiit*: 

'I’hrct* nights in one, tlu*v say, that for her sake 
He tlien tlul put, her {)leasijies U nger to partake. 

xxxiv. Fwise was he scene in soaring I'agU s sha[3e. 

And witli wide w mges to the bu\ome a\ie: 
Onee, w’heii he with Asterie did S(\i[ie, 

Ag.iine, when as the 'Froiaut* l)o\ so favre 
He snatrht Innn lil.i hill, and with him bare: 
Wondrous delight it was tlieie to bchould 

Bo, ok III — Canto XI 481 

after him tihi stare, 
least tltn\n he fallen >Uk:M. 
to Like surer houKi 

xxw. In Satyrcs shape Antu^pa ho sn a. ht . 

And like a fire, when lie Aei^m' a-^a\(l 
A shepeheanl, when Mnemosx ne \v ,.it. * : ; 

And like a >eipent to th(‘ 'I'lua. laii ni.ud 
U h\ les thus mi earth ^re.vt Jon e these p.i^c aunt- p] 

The winj^ed hoy did thrust uUt* lus tlmav 
And seollini: thus unto Iik inuther s.^. ,i 
Lo ! now the h<;\ens ol^-v to nn a! 'eu 
Anti take me for their Jom-. wh.l,-^ ha. t « earta u 

\xxvi. And thou, fiiire Iditehus, m th\ (»tlours hr a m 
W’ ast there enwtwen. and ih< sul di to r 
In whirh that ho\ thee pl<.nL:<d t-u dt pi '.t 
'i'hat thou hewrax dst his motln ’ -uiif e. 

W'Ih'U she with Mars wa > ine\ nt .11 io\t,.ln« « 

I'ortiiv he thnld tln-e with a h idm d ct 
T'o 1( w't‘ faire I )aj>line. w li'< !i i In t t-^rd r 

L( she thee lo\ M tlun wa-^ th\ 1 t d- ot. 

\’et w«is tliv lo\e la r de<illi, an*l in i iliath wa tl\ 

IIow the rude Shepheard 
Trembling through fcare 
And often to him eallirv- 

WXVir. So lo\ ed.t t hoii the I'O t V If' a' in< t 

.So lovetNt thou tin lair»- ( oo-m d' O' 

Vet both .ire of lh\ bapli « ham < 

"S’et both in tlow r( s {lo( li \ » . and I « t In * ' c • ^ 
T he one a I’anre tin' otin-i a e« l '»'• ii« 

Tor gnt ft w hen of, \ e iriotf li.;’. < l\i! 

T'he ( lod hiin^tlfe r» ruling h: eolC' ri h* lo 
And bieaking <]uit< hi> "ad-aid 1 r c ' ' 'a . 

\\ nil other siuiu s ..t - »rrou .uid 1: .p C 1 ut r- . -n 

XXXMil l^>oth ftir tho f two, an<l f-r h'v '-w ne il* .c« nuu , 
d’he sonne of ( hineiu . lu dal n j** ut 

W leu l)t>ld to guidi the < liarc ! < t thf -uun* , 

Hiin'^t Ife in thoi.^.irul peer < ^ f- udi . rf u* 

And all the world with fla-hm/ hrf b < n' 

So like, that .ill the wall' ^ dul - • ' ru' ^o liarno : 

\’et crucll Oipid, nr.t la r' ith » <iiin nt , 


486 The Faerie Queene 

Forst him eftsoones to follow other gAme, 
vAnd love a Sliephards daughter for his dearest Dame. 

XXXIX. He loved Isse for his dearest Dame, 

And for her sake her cattcll fedd awhile. 

And for her sake a cowheard vile became 
The servant of Admetus, cowheard vile. 

Whiles that from heaven he suffered exile. 

I^ng were to tell each other lovely fitt; 

Now, like a Lyon hunting after spoile; 

Now, like a stag; now, like a faulcon flit: 

All which in that faire arras most lively writ. 

XL. Next unto him was Neptune pictured. 

In his divine resemblance wondrous lyke: 

Ills face was rugged, and his hoarie hed 
Dropped with brackish deaw: his threeforkt Pyke 
He stcamly shooke, and therewith fierce did stryke 
The raging billowcs, that on every syde 
Tliey trembling stood, and made a long broad dyke, 
That his swift charet might have passage wyde 
Wliich foure great Hippodames did draw in temewise 

XLi. His seahorses did seemc to snort amayne, 

And from their nosethrilles blow the brynie streame, 
'i’hat made the sparckling waves to smoke agayne, 

And flame with gold; but the white fomy creame 
Did shine with silver, and shoot forth his beame. 

The God himsclfe did pensive seeme and sad, 

And hong adowne his head as lie did dreame; 

For privy love his brest cmpierced had, 

Ne ought but dearc Bisaltis ay could make him glad. 

XLir. He loved eke Iphimedia deare. 

And Aeolus faire daughter, Arn^ hight, 

For whom he turned him selfe into a Steare, 

And fedd on fodder to beguile her sight. 

Also to win Dcucalions daughter bright, 

He turned him selfe into a Dolphin fayre ; 

And like a winged horse he tooke his flight 
To snjiky-locke Medusa to repayre, 

On whom he got faire Pegasus that flitteth in the ayre. 

48 ? 

Bqok III — Canto XI 

xLiii. Next Satume was, (but who would ever weene 
That sullein Satume ever weend to love ? 

Yet love is sullein, and Saturnlike scene. 

As he did for Erigone it prove) 

That to a Centaure did him sclfe transmove. 

So proov’d it eke that gratious God of wine, 

When for to compasse Philliras luird !ove, 

He tumd himselfe into a fniitfull vine. 

And into her faire bosome made his grapes decline. 

xi.iv. were to tell the amorous assayes, 

And gentle pangue^ with which he maked meeke 
The mightie Mars, to leame his wanton pl.iyes , 

How ott for Venus, and how often eek 
For many other Nymphes, he sore did shreek, 

With womanish teares, an<l with unwarlike smarts, 
Privily moysteniiig his horrid cheeke: 

There was he painted full of burning dartes. 

And many wide woundes launched through liis inner partes 

xi.v. Ne did he spare (so cruell was the Fife) 

His owne dearc mother, (ah! \shv should he so?) 

Ne did he spare sometime to pneke himselfe. 

That he might taste the sweet consuming woe, 

Which he had wrought to manv others iiioe. 

But, to declare the mournfull rragedyes 

And spoilcs wherewith he all the grouml did stn-w. 

More cath to number with how manv e\ 's 
High heven beholdes sail losers nightly theeverves. Kings, Quccncs, I-ords, I.adies, knights, and Damsels gent. 
Were heap’d together with the vulgar -ort. 

And mingled with the raskall rablement, 

Without respect of person or of port , 

To shew Dan Cupids powrc and gr. at effort: 

And round about a border was eiitray d 
Of broken bowes and arrowes shivired short; 

And a long bloodv river through them ravld. 

So lively and so like that living sence it f..yl<l. 

xi.vii. And at the upper end of that faire rowme 
There was an AlUr built of prctious stone 
Of passing valcw and of great renowme. 


The Faerie Queepe 

On which there stood an Image all alone 
Of massy gold, which with his owne light shone; 

And winges it had with sondry colours dight, 

More sondry colours then the proud Pavone 
Beares in his boasted fan, or Iris bright. 

When her discolourd bow she spreds through hevens hight. 

XL VIII. Blyndfold he was; and in his cruell fist 

A mortall bow and arrowes keene did hold. 

With which he shot at randon, when him list, 

Some headed with sad lead, some with pure gold ; 

(Ah man! beware how thou tjiose dartes behold.) 

A wounded Dragon under him did ly. 

Whose hideous tayle his lefte foot did enfold. 

And with a shaft was shot through either eye. 

That no man forth might draw, ne no man remedye. 

XLix. And underneath his feet was written thus, 

Unto the Victor of the Gods this bee : 

And all the people in that ample hoiis 
Did to that image bowc their humble knee, 

And oft committed fowlc Idolatrce. 

That wondrous sight faire Britomart amazd, 

Ne seeing could her wonder satisfie, 

But ever more and more upon it gazd, 

The whiles the passing brightnes her fraile sences dazd. 

L. Tho, as she backward cast her busie eye 
To search each secrete of that goodly sted. 

Over the dore thus written she did spye. 

Bee bold : she oft and oft it over-red, 

Yet could not find what sence it figured: 

But what so were therein or writ or ment. 

She was no whit thereby discouraged 
From prosecuting of her first intent, 

But forward with bold steps into the next roome went. 

LI. Much fayrer then the former was that roome. 

And richlier by many partes arayd ; 

For not with arras made in painefull loome. 

But with pure gold it all was overlayd, 

Wrought with wilde Antickes, which their follies playd 
In the rich metall as they living were. 

Bqpk III — Canto XI 


A thousand monstrous formes therein were mad? 

Such as false love doth oft upon him weare ; 

For love in thousand monstrous formes doth oft appcare. 

Lii. And all about the glistring wallcs were hong 
With warlike spoiles and with victorious praves 
Of mightie Conquerours and Captaincs stron«r 
Which were whilome captived in their dayes"'' 

To cruell love, and wrought their ownc decavcs 
Their swerds and speres were broke, and hauberqucs rent 
And their proud girlonds of tryumphant bayes 
Troden in dust with fwry insolent. 

To shew the victors might and mercilesse intent. 

Liil. The warlike Mayd, beholding earnestly 
The goodly ordinaunce of this rich Place, 

Did greatly wonder; ne could satisfy 
Her greedy eyes with gazing a long space : 

But more she mervaild that no footings trace 
Nor wight appeard, but wastefull emptinesse 
And solemne silence over all that place : 

Straunge thing it seem VI, that none was to possessc 
So rich purvcyaunce, ne them keepe with carcfulnessc. 

LTV. And, as she lookt about, she did behold 

How over that .same dore was likewise wTit, 

Be boldcy be bolde, and every where, Be bold ; 

That much she muz VI, yet could not construe it 
By any ridling skill, or commune wit. 

At last she spyrlc at that rowmes upper end 
Another yron dore, on which was writ, 

Be not too bold ; whereto though she fhd benri 

Her earnest minde, yet wist not what it might intend. 

Lv. Thus she there wayted untill eventyde, 

Yet living creature none she saw appearc, 

And now sad shadowes gan the world to hvde 
From mortall vew, and wrap in darkenes dreare; 

Yet nould she d’off her weary armes, for fcarc 
Of secret daunger, ne let sleepe oppresse 
Her heavy eyes with natures burdein dearc, 

But drew her selfe aside in sickemesse, 

And her wel-pointed wepons did alxiut her dressc. 


The Faerie Queeqe 


The maske of Cupid, and the enchant- 
ed Chamber are displayd; 

Whence Britomart redeemes faire A- 
moret through charmes decayd. 

I. Tho, whenas chearelesse Night y covered had 
Fay re heaven with an universall clowd, 

That every wight dismayd with darkencs sad 
In silence and in sleepc themselves did shrowd. 

She heard a shrilling Trompet sound alowd, 

Signe of nigh battaill^ or got victory : 

Nought therewith daunted was her courage provvd, 
But rather stird to cruell enmity, 

Expecting ever when some foe she might descry. 

II. With that an hideous storme of winde arose. 

With dreadfull thunder and lightning atwixt, 

And an earthquake, as if it streight would lose 
The worlds foundations from his centre fixt : 

A direfull stench of smoke and sulphure mixt 
Ensewd, whose noyaunce fild the fearefull sted 
From the fourth howre of night untill the sixt; 

Yet the bold Britonesse was nought ydred. 

Though much emmov^d, but stedfast still persevered. 

III. All suddeinly a stormy whirlwind blew 
Throughout the house, that clapped every dorc. 

With which that yron wicket open flew. 

As it with mighty levers had bene tore ; 

And forth yssewd, as on the readie flore 
Of some Theatre, a grave personage 
That in his hand a braunch of laurel 1 bore. 

With comely haveour and countenance sage, 

Yclad in costly garments fit for tragicke Stage. 

IV. Proceeding to the midst he stil did stand. 

As if in mmde he somewhat had to say ; 

And to the vulgare beckning with his hand. 


Bopk III — Canto XII 


In si^e of silence, as to heare a play, 

By lively actions he gan bewray 
Some argument of matter passioned : 

Which doen, he backe retyrcd soft away. 

And, passing by, his name discovered. " 

Ease, on his robe in golden letters cyphered. 

V, The noble Mayd still standing all this vewd. 

And merveild at his straunge intend inient. 

With that a joyous fellowship is<?ewd 
Of Minstrales making goodly ineriment, 

With wanton Bard^, and Rymers impiidint ; 

All which together song full chearefiilly 
A lay of loves delight with sweet eom eiit: 

After whom mareht a jolly comy'>anv, 

In manner of a maske, enrangcd orderly. 

M. The whiles a most delitious harmonv 

In full straunge notes was sweetly In ard to souni], 

That the rare sweetnesse of the melody 
The feeble scnces wholly did confound, 

And the frayle sonic in deepe <le)ight nigh clnoviul: 

And, when it coast, shrill tromyv ts low'd dul hrav, 

That their report did far aw'ay rebound; 

And, when they ccast, it agaim- to plav, 

The whiles the maskers marched forth in trim ar.;y. 

VII. The first was Fansy, like a lovely Bov 

Of rare aspect, and lieautie without yx arc, 

Matchable ether to that ympe of Troy, 

Whom Jove did love and chose his cup to lx ari ; 

Or that same daintie lad, which was so dear*- 
To great Alcides, that, when as he dydr, 
lie wailed womanlike with many a teare, 

And every wood and every valley wyde 

He filled with Hylas name; the Nymphos eke II) kis cryde. 

VIII. Ilis garment nether was of silke nor say, 

But paynted plumes in goodly order dight, 

Like as the sunburnt Indians do aray 
Their tawney bodies in their proudest plight; 

As those same plumes so seemd he vainc and light, 

That by his gate might ea'^ily appeare; ^ 

492 The Faerie Queepe 

For still he far'd as dauncing in delight, 

Ahd in his hand a windy fan did beare, 

That in the ydle ayre he mov'd still here and theare. 

IX. And him beside marcht amorous Desyre, 

Who seemd of ryper yeares then th* other Swayne, 

Yet was that other swayne this elders syre. 

And gave him being, commune to them twayne: 

His garment was disguysed very vayne, 

And his embrodered Bonet sat awry; 

Twixt both his hands few sparks he close did strayne. 
Which still he blew and kindledebusily, 

That soone they life conceiv'd, and forth in flames did fly. 

X. Next after him went Doubt, who was yclad 
In a discolour’d cote of straunge disguyse. 

That at his backe a brode Capuccio had. 

And sleeves dependaunt Albanes^-wyse : 

He lookt askew with his mistrustfull eyes. 

And nycely trode, as thornes lay in his way, 

Or that the flore to shrinke he did avyse; 

And on a broken reed he still did stay 

His feeble steps, which shrunck when hard thereon he lay. 

XI. With him went Daunger, cloth'd in ragged weed 
Made of Beares skin, that him more dreadfull made; 

Yet his owne face was dreadfull, ne did need 
Straunge horrour to deforme his gricsly shade : 

A net in th' one hand, and a rusty blade 
In th' other was; this Mischiefe, that Mishap: 

With th’ one his foes he threatned to invade. 

With th' other he his friends ment to enwrap; 

For whom he could not kill he practizd to entrap. 

XII. Next him was Feare, all arm’d from top to toe. 

Yet thought himselfe not safe enough thereby, 

But feard each shadow moving too or froe ; 

And, his owne armes when glittering he did spy 
Or clsishing heard, he fast away did fly. 

As ashes pale of hew, and winged heeld. 

And evermore on Daunger fixt his eye. 

Gainst whom he alwayes bent a brasen shield, 

Which his right hand unarmed fearefully did wield. 

Book III — Canto XII 

Xlll. With him wen't Hope in rancke, a handsome Mavd, 

Of cheareful) looke and lovely to behold; " 

In silken samite she was light arayd, 

And her fayre lockes were woven up in gold : 

She alway smyld, and in her hand did hold 
An holy-water-sprinckle, dipt in deowc, 

With which she sprinckled favours maaifold 
On whom she list, and did great liking shcowo, 
Great liking unto many, but true love to fcowe. 

493 - 

XIV. And after them Dissemblaunce and Suspert 
Marcht in one rancke; yet an uncquull pairc; 

For she was gentle and of milde aspect, 

Courteous to all and seeming debonaire, 

Goodly adorned and exceeding fairer 

Yet was that all but paynted and pourlovnd, • 

And her bright browes >i'cre deekt with ht>rrowcd haire; 
Her deeds were forged, and her w'ords false coynd, 
And alwaics in her hand two clewes of silke she twynd. 

XV. But he was fowle, ill favoured, and grim, 

Under his ciebrowes looking still askaunce ; 

And ever, as Dissemblaunce laught on him, 

He lowrd on her with daungcrous eyeglaunce. 

Shew ing his nature in his countenaimc e: 

His rolling eies did never rest in pLu c, 

But walkte each where for fcarc of hi(i mi.M haiinrc, 
Holding a lattis still before his face, 

Through which he stil did peep as forward he did pare. 

XVI. Next him went Griefe and Fury, matrht yfere; 

Griefe all in sable sorrowfully clad, 

Downe hanging his dull head with heavy chere, 

Yet inly being more then seeming sad: 

A paire of Pincers in his hand he had. 

With w'hich he pinched people to the hart, 

That from thenceforth a wretched life they ladd. 

In wilfull languor and consuming smart, 

Dying each day w'ith inward wounds of dolours dart. 

xvir. But Fury was full ill apparciled 

In rags, that naked nigh she did appeare, 
With ghastly looks and drcadfull drerihed; 


The Faerie Que^e 


And from her backe her garments she did teare, 

And from her head ofte rente her snarled heare : 

In her right hand a firebrand shee did tosse 
About her head, still roming here and there; 

As a dismayed Deare in chace embost, 

Forgetfull of his safety, hath his right way lost. 

XVIII. After them went Displeasure and Pleasaunce, 

He looking bmpish and full sullein sad, 

And hanging downe his heavy countenaunce ; 

She chearfull, fresh, and full of joyaunce glad. 

As if no sorrow she ne felt ne drad ; 

That evill matched paire they seemd to bee : 

An angry Waspe th’ one in a viall had, 

Th’ other in hers an hony-laden Bee. 

Thus marched these six couples forth in faire degree. 

XIX. After all these there marcht a most faire Dame, 

Led of two grysie Villeins, th* one Despight, 

The other cleped Cruelty by name: 

She, dolefull Lady, like a dreary Spright 
Cald by strong charmes out of eternall night, 

Had Dcathes owne ymage figurd in her face, 

Full of sad signes, fearfull to living sight; 

Yet in that horror shewd a seemely grace, 

And with her feeble feete did move a comely pace. 

XX. Her brest all naked, as nett yvory 
Without adornc of gold or silver bright, 

Wherewith the Craftesman wonts it beautify. 

Of her dew honour was dcspoyled quight; 

And a wide wound therein (O ruefull sight!) 
Entrenched deep with knyfe accursed kcene. 

Yet freshly bleeding forth her fainting spright, 

(The worke of cruell hand) was to be scene, 

That dyde in sanguine red her skin all snowy clecne. 

XXI. At that wide orifice her trembling hart 
Was drawne forth, and in silver basin layd, 

Quite through transfixed with a deadly dart, 

And in her blood yet steeming fresh embay d : 

And those two villeins, which her steps upstayd. 
When her weake feete could scarcely her sustaine. 

495 ' 

Boojc III — Canto XII 


And fading vitall powres gan to fade, 

Her forward still with torture did constraine, 

And evermore encreased her consuming painc. 

XXII. Next after her, the winged God him sdfo 
Came riding on a Lion ravenous, 

Taught to obay the menage of that Elie 
That man and beast with powrc imperious 
Subdeweth to his kingdome tyrannous. 

His blindfold eies he bad awhile uubindo, 

That his proud spoile of that same dolorous 
Faire Dame he might behold in perfect kinde: 

Which scene, he much rejoyced in his cruell nn:vl'\ 

Of which ful prowd, him selfe up rearing h\ e 
He looked round al)out with sterne disda\ ne. 

And did survay his goodly company; 

And, marshalling the evill-ordercd trayne, 

With that the darts which his right h.iml did straine 
Full dreadfully he shooke, that all did (juake, 

And clapt on hye his roulounl winges tw.iine, 

That all his many it afTraidc did make: 

Tho, blinding him againe, his way he forth did 

XXIV. Behinde him was Rcproch, R(*|)rniaun^ e, Shame; 
Reproch the first, Shame next, Ropent behinde: 
Repentaunce feeble, sorrowful, ancl lame; 

Reproch despightfull, rarelesse. ancl unknvle; 

Shame most ill-favourd, bcstiall, and blinde: 

Shame lowrd, Repentaunce sighd, Reprocli did iconic*; 
Reproch sharpe stings, Repentaunce %\hips entwinde. 
Shame burning brond-yrons in her hand did hold' 

All three to each unlike, yet all made in one* mould. 

XXV. And after them a rude confused rout 

Of persons flockt, whose names is hard to read: 
Emongst them was sterne Strife, and Anger stout; 
Unquiet Care, and fond Unthriftyhead ; 

Lewd Losse of Time, and Sorrow seeming dc ad; 
Inconstant C haunge, and Dislovalty; 

Consuming Riotise, and guilty Dread 
Of heavenly vengeaunce; faint Infinnily; 

Vile Poverty; and, lastly. Death with infamy. 

4q6 The Faerie Queeyie 


XXVI. There were full many moe like maladies^ 

Whose names and natures I note readen well; 

So many moe, as there be phantasies 
In wavering wemens witt, that none can tell. 

Or paines in love, or punishments in hell: 

All which disguized marcht in masking wise 
About the chamber by the Damozell; 

And then returned, having marched thrise, 

Into the inner rowme from whence they first did rise. 

xxvii. So soone as they were in, the dore streightway 
Fast locked, driven with that stormy blast 
Which first it opened, and bore all away. 

Then the brave Maid, which al this while was plast 
In secret shade, and saw both first and last, 

Issewed forth, and went unto the dore 
To enter in, but fownd it locked fast: 

It vaine she thought with rigorous uprore 
For to efforce, when charmcs had closed it afore. 

XXVIII. Where force might not availe, there sleights and art 
She cast to use, both fitt for hard emprize: 

Forthy from that same rowme not to depart 
Till morrow next shee did her selfe avize, 

When that same Maske againe should forth arize. 

The morrowe ncxte appeard with joyous cheare, 
(ailing men to their daily exercize: 

Then she, as morrow fresh, her selfe did reare 
Out of her secret stand that day for to oiitwcarc. 

XXIX. All that day she outwore in wandering 
And gazing on that Chambers ornament. 

Till that againe the second evening 

Her covered with her sable vestiment, 

VVlierewith the worlds faire beautic she hath blent: 
Then, when the second watch was almost past, 

That brasen dore flew open, and in went 
Bold Britomart, as she had late forecast, 

Nether of ydle showes, nor of false charmes aghast. 

XXX. So soone as she was entred, rownd about 
Shec cast her eies to see what was become ' 

Of all those persons which she saw without: 

Book III — Canto XII 497 

But lo ! th<5y straight were vanisht all and some ; 

Ne living wight she saw in all that roome, 

Save that same woefull Lady, both whose hands 
Were bounden fast, that did her ill become, 

And her small waste girt rownd with yron bands 
Upon a brasen pillour, by the which she stands. 

XXXI. And her before the vile Enchaunlcr sate, 

Figuring straunge characters of his art: 

With living blood he those characters wrale, 
Dreadfully dropping from her dying hart, 

Seeming transfixe<J with a cruell dart; 

And all perforce to make her him to love. 

Ah! who can love the worker of her smart? 

A thousand charmes he formerly did prove. 

Yet thousand charmes could not her stedfast bait 

XXXII. Scone as that virgin knight he saw in pKue, 

His wicked bookes in hast he overthrew, 

Not caring his long labours in deface; 

And, fiercely running to that Lady trew, 

A murdrous knife out of his pocket drt‘w, 

The which he thought, for villcinous ilcspiglit, 

In her tormented bodic to embrew: 

But the stout Uam/cll, to him leaping light, 

Ilis cursed hand withheld, and maistered his might. 

XXXIII. From her, to whom his fury first he ment. 

The wicked weapon rashly he did wrest, 

And, turning to herselfe, his fell intent, 

Unwares it strooke into her snowie < best, 

That litle drops empurpled her faire brest. 
Exceeding wroth therewith the virgin grew, 

Albc the wound were nothing deepe imprest, 

And fiercely forth her morull blade she drew. 

To give him the reward for such vile outrage dew. 


So mightily she smote him, that to . 

He fell halfe dead : next stroke him should have slamc, 
Had not the Lady, which by him stood bound, 

Demly unto her called to abstaine 
From doing him to dy. For else her paine 


The Faerie Queene 

Should be remedilesse; sith none^but hee 
Which wrought it could the same recure againe. 
Therewith she stayd her hand, loth stayd to bee; 

For life she him envyde, and long’d revenge to see: 

XXXV. And to him said: Thou wicked man, whose meed 
For so huge mischiefe and vile villany 
Is death, or if that ought doe death exceed ; 

Be sure that nought may save thee from to dy 
But if that thou this Dame do presently 
Restore unto her health and former state: 

This doe, and live, els dyejundoubtedly.” 

He, glad of life, that lookt for death but late. 

Did yield him selfe right willing to prolong his date: 

x\'xvi. And, rising up, gan streight to over-looke 

Those cursed leaves, his charmes back to reverse. 

Full dreadfull thinges out of that balefull booke 
lie red, and measur’d many a sad verse, 

'I'hat horrour gan the virgins hart to perse, 

And her faire locks up stared stiffe on end. 

He iring him those same bloody lyncs rcherse; 

And, all the while he red, she did extend 

Her sword high over him, if ought he did offend. 

XXXVII. Anon she gan perceive the house to c^uake, 

And all the dores to rattle round about: 

Yet all that did not her dismaied make, 

For slack her threatfull hand for daungers dout: 

But still with stedfast eye and courage stout 
Abode, to weet what end would come of all. 

At last that mightic chaine, which round about 
Her tender waste was wound, adowne gan fall, 

And that great brasen pillour broke in pccccs small. 

xxxviii. The crucll stccle, which thrild her dying hart, 

ITll boftly forth, as of his owne accord, 

And the wyde wound, which lately did dispail 
Her bleeding brest, and riven bowels gor’d, 

Was closed up, as it had not beene bor’d, 

And every part to safety full sownd. 

As she were never hurt, was soone restord. 

Tho, when she felt her selfe to be unbownd. 

And perfect hole, prostrate she fell unto the grownd. 

499 * 

Book III — Canto XII 

XXXIX. Before faire*Britomart she fell prostrate, 

Saying; “ Ah noble knight ! what worthv mecilg^ 

Can wretched Lady, quitt from wofnll siati‘. 

Yield you in lieu of tins vour gr.u ions deed ^ 

Your vertue sclfe her owne rew.inl sh.dl breed. 

Even immortal prayse and glory w\de. 

Which I your \ assail, by your ]'»rv»s\esse fieed. 

Shall through the world make to )>e notiUde. 

And goodly well advaunce that goodb wcW ti\de “ 

XL. But Britomart, upreanng her fnnn gn>wnd. 

Said: “ Gentle Dawie, reward eno\igh 1 wetr.< , 

For many labours more tlien [ b. im* f<uiu<l. 

This, that in s.ifelie now 1 ha\e \ on setne, 

And mcanc of vtmr di-liveranee h bet ;i< 
Henceforth, fiUre Ladv, (omfoit in \ nu i Oo , 

And put awM\ nnnembran* e of 1 ite t* « ne . 

Insted thereof, know that \ our ln\ iul; Main 
Hath no le^sc gnefe indiiud for \t>nr 

XLI. She much wms ciie.ird to heart* him inrntmnd. 
Whom of all living wightes sht* ln\< d l>e•^t 
Then laid the noble ( hampionesse strong h<>nd 
Upon th’ encliaunter whu h hatl Ik r di^tn i 
So sore, and wnth loiile oulragt s n]>pie'Ni 
With that rh.iine, win rt with not long \ gne 

He hound tliat pitteoiis Uid\ pii^niitT, now u U l 

HiniMdfe slie hound, inoie worih\ to he o.. 

And captive with her led to w rt l« Ik < i: . . < .jA w. 

XMI. Returning hack, those goodb mw im whw < t t 
vShe saw' so rich and roN.ilb aia\d. 

Now vanisht utterlv and rleaue Mib\er^t 
She found, an.l all their udor^ riaitt d- - <^'1 
That sight of such a chaungc In r iniith di^i.-r -1 
Thence forth descending to th it fx ilou poo u 
Those dreadfiill liamcs she abo found -e l-col 
And quenched quite like a <on.uiiK-d tor- 
That erst all entrers wtjnt so t rut lly to ort li. 

xi.iiT. More casic issew’ nt>w' then entrant lat< 
She^found, for now that famed dn adfull 
Which chokt the porch of that enrhaunte< 

fl MV, 


The Faerie Queene 

And passage bard to all that thither came. 

Was vanisht quite, as it were not the same 
And pve her leave at pleasure forth to paAe 
Th Knchaunter selfe, which all that fraud did frame 
To have efTorst the love of that faire lasse 
Seeing his worke now wasted, deepe engriexed was. 

xi.iv. But when the Victoresse arrived there 

pensife Scudamore 

VV ith her own trusty Squire, both full of feare 

Til 'I ‘'''''y "'here she them lore: 

Jhcreat her noble hart wa? stonisht sore* 

But most fame Amoret, whose gentle spri-ht 
Now gan to feede on hope, which she blhme 
Conceived had to see her own deare kniglit. 

Being thereof heguyhl, was fild with new alTright. 

But he, sad man, when he had long in drede 
Awayted there for Britomarts returne 
Yet saw her not, nor signe of her good speed 
Ills expectation to despaire did turnc 
Misdeeming sure that her those flame,; did burne- 
And theiefore gan advize with her old Squire 
Y ho her deare nourslings losse no lesse did mourne 
1 hence to depart for further ai.le f enquire : 

Where let them wend at-will, whilest here I doe respire 



A Selected List^ arranged under Authop 

Anthologies t composite works, etc.. 

Addison's Spectator, 164-7 
icschylus* Lyrical Dramas, 62 
kcsop*! and Other Fables, 657 
Linsworth's Tower of London, 400 
„ Old St. Paul’s, 522 

„ Windsor Castle, 709 

,; Rookwood, 870 

I Kempis’s Imiudon of Christ, 484 
^Icon’s Little Women, and Good Wives, 248 
„ LiiUe Men, 512 
ndersen’s Fairy Tales, 4 
iiglo-Saxon Chronicle, 624 
.nglo Saxon Poetrv, 794 
quinas’s (Thomas), Selected Writings, 953 
nstophancs’ Acharnians, etc., 344 
„ Frogs, etc., 516 
ristotie’s Ethics, 547 
„ Politics, 605 

„ Poetics, and Demetrius on Style, 

etc., 901 

[ mold’s (Matthew) Essays, 115 
„ Poems, 334 
ugustine's (St.) Confessions, 200 

City of God. 982-3 
kurelius’ (Marcus) Meditauons, 9 
lusten’s jane) Sense and Sensibility, 21 
„ Pride and Prejudice, 22 
1 „ Manshcld Park, 23 

' „ Fmma, 24 

„ Nonhanger Abbey, and Persua- 
sion, 25 

lacon’s Essays, 10 

Advancement of Leamintt, 719 
iagehot’s Literary Studies, 520-1 
Uu/at’s Wild Ass’s Skin, 66 
,, liugenie Grandet, 169 
„ Old Gbriot, 170 

„ Cat and Racket, etc., 349 

„ Ursule Mirouct, 733 

tarbussc’s Under Fire, 798 
taster’s Autobiography. 868 
caumont and Fletcher s Plays, 506 
ede’s Ecclesiastical History, 479 
crkcley’s (Bishop) Principles of Human 
Knowledge, etc . 483 
lackmore’s Lorna Doonc, 304 
lake’s Poems and Prophecies, 792 
ligh’s A Book of the 'Bounty, ’ 950 
<'Ccaccio’s Decameron, 845-6 
orrow’s Lavengro, 119 
„ Romany Rye, 120 

„ Bible in Spain, 151 

oswell’s Life of Johnson, 1-2 
„ Tour to the Hebrides, 3S7 
.ayle’s Tlic Scepucal Chymist, 559 
ronic’s (.^.1 Tenant of Wdotcll Hall, 685 
Iromc’s (C.) Jane Eyre, 287 
., Shirley, 288 

„ ViUcite, 351 

„ 1 he Professor, 417 

ironte’i (E.) Wuthenn|( Heights, 243 
rowne’s (Frances) Granny’s NX undcrful 
Chair, 112 

are given at the end of the hit^ 

Browne’s (Thos.) Rcligio Medici, etc . 92 
Browning’s Poems, 183V44. 41-2 
. 1871-90, 904 

'I i.e Ring and the H(x>k, 502 
Bulfinch’s The Ace of Fable, 472 
Banyan's Pilgrim’s Progress, 204 

„ Grace Abounding, snJ Mr. Bad- 
man, 815 

Burke’s American Speeches, etc , 340 

„ Reflections on the French Revolu- 
tion, etc., 460 
Burney’s Evelina, 352 

„ Diary, Selection. 960 
Burns’s Pi>ems and Songs. 94 
Burton’s (Rnbcrt) Anaiomv ol Mrlnneholy, 

Butler’s (Samuel) Hrewhon srul Eiewhoti 
Revisited, 8H1 

.. '1 he Ml ay of All nesh. 895 

Boon’s ('omplcte Poetical and Dramatic 
Works. 186-M 
„ 1 citrrs. 931 

Caesar’s War i ^mmcrnaries, 702 
C'aldertm’s Plays, 819 
f jinion’i Child’s Hook of Saints. 61 
,, Invisible Playmate, etc , 566 

Carlvle’t I’rencli Kevoluiion, 31-2 

,, Sartor Kesartus. 278 

„ Past and Present, 608 

„ Essays, 703*4 

„ Rcriiinis(.ciKrs. H75 

Carrr'll’i 'Le\*is) Alue in Wonderland, etc., 
8 36 

C'j.«iiglionc’s 1 he C,ouriicr. 80/ 

(xllinTs /' iitoliiopraphy, 51 
( ers’aiiie ’> Don 3H5-6 

(Chaucer’s lUnrcrbury Tales, 307 
„ Troilus and C'.nseydc, 992 
( hesterficld’s Letters to his Son. H23 
< hesterton’s K' ) A History »>1 llic United 
Suitei, 965 

Chrdicn dc Troyes's Aiihuxian Romances, 

Cicero’s Ofticns, Eisavs. and I>eitcn, 345 
Gobbeti’s Rides, 6)8-9 
Coleridge’s Hu'graphia Literarta, 1 1 

„ (loldcn Bisok <'f !*‘*cti>, 43 
„ on Shas^ipt ^re, 162 

Collins’s Mi'oman lo Mt lute, 164 
,, 7 he Mooioionc, 9/9 

('olJodrs PimKchio, 53H 
Converse’s I omr Will, 32H 

H/'ioe of Pravrr, 0>3 
('o<'k*s tC^apiain^ Voyage*. 99 
tA>«>per’s I «*f the M- »,.cans, 7/ 

,, 7 lie Prairie, 1 /2 

f.rwpcr’s I Ttteri, 77 1 
„ !’■ erns, 872 

Creasy’s Fifteen Decisive Battles, 300 
Ocvcccrur’s l.ettrrs from an Amcncan 
Farmer, 640 

Dana's Two ^ cars before the Mast, 586 


Ev€ryman*s Library 

Dinte's Divine Comedy, 308 
Darwin'^ Origin of Species, 81 1 
„ Voyage of me *Beasle,* 104 
Dasent*8 Story of Burnt Njal, 558 
Defoe'i Robiinon Crusoe, 59 
„ Captam Singleton, 74 

„ Journal of Plague, 289 

„ Tour through England and Wales, 

,, MoU Flanders, 837 
De Joinville’s Memoirs of the Crusades, 333 
De Qumcey’s (^ium-Eater, 223 
Demosthenes* Crown and other orations, 

Descartes* Discourse on Method, 570 
Dickens's Bamaby Rudge, 76 
„ Tale of Two Cities, 102 

„ Old Curiosity Shop, 173 

„ Oliver Twist, 233 

„ Great Expectations, 234 

„ Pickwick Papers, 235 

„ Bleak House, 236 

„ Nicholas Nicklcby, 238 

,, Christmas Books, 239 

„ Dombey and Son, 240 

„ Martin Chuzzlewit, 211 

„ David Copperheld, 212 

„ Hard Times, 292 

„ Little Dorrit, 293 

„ Our Mutual Friend, 291 

Disraeli*s Coningsby, 535 
Donne’s Poems, 867 

Di.^toevsky’s Crime and Punishment, 501 
„ Letters from the Underworld, 654 
„ The Idiot, 682 

„ Poor Folk, and The Gambler, 711 
„ The Brothers Karamazov, 802-3 
„ The Possessed, 861-2 
Dryden’s Dramatic Essays, 568 
„ Poems, 910 

Dumas’s The Three Musketeers, 81 
„ The Black Tulip, 174 
„ Twenty Years After, 175 

„ Marguerite de Valois, 326 

,, Count of Monte Crisio, 393-4 
Du Maurier’s Trilby, 863 

Edgeworth’s Castle Rackrent, etc., 410 
Eliot’s Adam Bede, 27 
„ Silas Marner, 121 
„ Komola, 231 
„ Mill on the Floss, 325 
„ Middlemarch, 854-5 
Emerson’s Essays, 12 

„ Representative Men, 279 
Epictetus’ Moral Discourses, 401 
Bekermann’s Conversations with Goethe, 

Euclid’s Elements, 891 
Euripides’ Plays, 63, 271 
Evelyn’s Diary, 220-1 
Everyman and other Interludes, 381 

Fail of the Nibclungs, 312 
Faraday’s Experimental Researclies in 
Elcctrici^, 576 
Fielding’s Tom Jones, 355-6 
„ Amelia, 852-3 
„ Joseph Andrews, 467 
„ Jonathan Wild, and the Journal of 
a Voyage to Lisbon, 877 
Flaubert’s Madame Bovary, 808 
M Salammbd, 869 

Flaubert’s Seg timental Education, 969 
Fletcher’s (Beaumont and) Selected Play 
506 ^ 

Forster’s Life of Dicken^ 781-2 
Fox’s (Charles James) Selected Speechei 

Fox's (George) Journal, 754 
France’s (Anatole) Sign of the Rcine Pd 
dauque, and Revolt of the Angels, 967 
Francis* (St.) The Little Flowers, etc. 

Franklin’s (B.) Autobiography, 316 

Gaskcli’s Cranford, 83 

„ Life* of Charlotte Brontd, 318 

Gibbon’s Roman Empire, 434-6, 474-6 
„ Autobiography, 511 

Gilchrist’s Life of Blake, 971 
Gilhllan’s Literary Portraits, 348 
Gleig’s Life of Wellington, 341 
GogoPs Dead Souls, 726 
„ * Taras Bulba, 740 
Goldsmith’s Vicar of Wakefield, 295 
., Poems and Plays, 415 
Goncharov's Oblomov, 878 
Gorki’s Through Russia, 741 
Gray’s Poems and Letters, 628 
Green’s Short History of the English People, 

Grimms’ Fairv Talcs, 56 
Grossmith’s Diary of a Nobody, 963 

Hamilton’s The Federalist, 519 
Harvey’s Circulation of Blood, 262 
Hawthorne’s Wonder Hook, 5 

„ The Scarlet Letter, 122 

„ House of Seven Gables, 176 

Hazlitt’s Characters of Shakespeare’s Plays, 

„ Table Talk, 321 

„ Lectures, 411 

„ Spirit of the Age, etc., 459 

Heimsknnglu The Norse King Sagas, 847 
Heine’s Prose and Poetry, 911 
Herodotus, 405-6 
Hobbes’s Leviathan, 691 
Holinshed’s Chronicle, 800 
Holmes’s (O W.) Autocrat, 66 
Homer’s Iliad, 453 
„ Odyssey, 454 

Horace’s Complete Poetical Works, 515 
Houghton’s I.ifc and Letters of Keats, 801 
Howard’s (I*’.) Rattlin the Reefer, 857 
Howard’s (John) State of the Prisons, 835 
Hudson’s (W. H.) Far Away and Long Ago, 

Hughes’s cThomas) Tom Brown’s School- 
days, 58 

Hugo’s (Victor) Let Misdrables, 363-4 
„ Notre Dame, 422 

„ Toilers of lire Sea, 509 

Hume’s Treatise of Human Nature, etc., 

Hunt’s (Leigh) Selected Essays, 829 

Ibsen’s The Doll’s House, etc., 49 1 
„ Ghosts, etc., 552 
„ Pretenders, Pillars of Society, Ros- 
mersholm, 659 
„ Brand, 716 

„ Peer Gynt, 747 

Irving's Life of Mahomet, 513 

James (Wm.) Selections from, 739 

Ereryman's Library 

JcOttiei** (Ridiard) After > Lon(lt>n, aod 
Amaryilia at the Fair, 951 
„ Bevif, 850 

Johnson’t (Dr.) Livci of the Poeii, 770-1 
„ The Rambler, 9<i4 
Jonson’a (Ben) Plays, 489-90 

Kant, Cniique of Pure Reason, 909 
Keats's Poems, 101 
Kinglakc's Hothen, 337 
Kingsley's (Chas.) Westward Hoi, 20 
„ Heroes. 113 

Water Babies, and Glau- 
cus, 277 

„ Hereuard the Wake, 299 

Poems, 793 

Koran, 380 

La Fontaine’s Fables, 991 
lamb’s Tales from Slukespeare, 8 
„ Fssays of Elia, 1-4 

„ Letters, 342-1 

Landor’s Imaginary C'onversaiions and 
Poems. 890 

* Langland’s Piers Plowman. 571 
I^w^s Serious Call. Ml 

Lear's (Edmund) A Book of Nonsense. 806 

Leibniz’s Philosophical Wiiiings, 905 

Lessing’s l-aocoon, etc., 813 

l.ewes’s Life of tuicthc, 2^9 

Lincoln’s Speeches, etc , 2 i><j 

Livy’s History of Rome, 755-6 

Locke’s ('.ivil Cjovernmcnt, 751 

, Essav on Human Understanding, 

” 9M4 

Lockhart’s Life of Napoleon, 3 
Longfellow’s Poems, 3h2 
Lonnroti’s Kalevaln, 259 60 
Lotj’s Iceland Fisherman, 920 

LoverMland% Ai.. v, 178 

Lucretius’ (3ii the Nature of Ihings, 750 

Lutzow’s History of Bohemia. 1 '2 

I ynd’s Essays on l.ife and I itcraturc, 9'A) 

I ytton’s LaM l)a\s of Pompeii, ttO 

Macaulay’s England, 34-7 
„ Essays, 225-6 
Machiavelli’s Prince, 

Maine’s Ancient I 

Malory’s Le .Morte D’Arthur, 45 6 
Malthus on the Principles of Population, 

Marie dc I ranee. l.a\s of, 557 
Marlowe’s Plays and Poems, 3H 3 
Marry at's Mr. .Midsh.prnsn Itasy, 82 
Masterman Ready, 

■* „ Childicri of New Eorcn, 217 

Marx’s Capital, 848 m 
M aupassant's Short Storic«, 907 
MelviUe’s Moby IJi^k, 179 
., T\pee, 180 

Mrrimce’s (barmen, etc ,834 
Mickiewicz’s i*an ladeusz, 842 
Mill’s L’t.litarianisra, Liberty. Representa- 
tisc Go'crnment, 482 
„ R.ghts of VC'cman, 825 
Miiion's Poems. 3H4 o 

Areopagitica, and oilier rroie 
Works, 795 

Mitford’s Our Vi’lagc, 927 
Mohcrc’s Comedies, hJO-1, 

Monuignc's Easavs, 4^2 
More'i Utopia, and Dialogue ol Conuort 
against Txibulauon, 461 

Motley's Dtstdi Republic. 86-4 
Mulocfc'i John Halifax, 123 

New castle's < Margaret, Duch*wa of) Ijfe of 
the Fust Duke of Newcasvie, etc., 722’s Apologia Pro Vita Sua, 636 
„ Oti the SciW and Nature of 
University Fducation, civ .721 
Nietxache's Thus Spake /arathustra, 892 

Omar Khayyim, 819 
Ovid Worka, 955 
Owen’s (Robert) A .'sew View of Seviety, 
etc., 799 

Paine’s Rights of Man, 718 
Palgravc's Golden I'reasury, 96 
Pascal’s Pensees, 874 
Paston letters, 752-3 
Pater’s Marius the 1 pivurean. 903 
Pearson’s Phe Grammar of Saence, 939 
Pcpys’i Diarv. SV 5 
Plato’s Republic. M 
,, Diaioguev, 456-7 
Plutarch’s Lives, 407-9 

Poe’s Pales of My strry ani) Imagination, 336 
,, Poems and l-isay*. 7V| 

Polo’s I Marco) Travels, 

Pope’s t'ornplete 1 \<ik il \X'»ifks. 760 
Prescott’s <'/onniir%t of Peru, 3ni 

„ ( onquc't of Mesuo. 397 H 

Prcvost’i Manon l.esLaut, etc , 8 14 

Quiller-(Jouch‘i Hetty rdey, 8ol 

„ ( amondge l.etiures, 974 

Krbelais’s Garganlua and Puntagrucl, 826- 

Radthlfe’s (Mrs Ann) 1 he Mysteries o( 
Udolpho, 865 6 

Kamayana and 5\tthabluirata. 40 3 
Keade’i ’Phe ( .loistcr and the Hearth, 29 
Renan’s Life of Jesus. 805 
Ricardo's I’rinciples o( Political Economy 
and 'I as-itioii, 590 
RichariK.*n'» Pamrb. 68 3-4 
( laiisKa h*<2-5 

Robinsi'n’s tU'aJe’ *'eiMn>»s, 637 
Kovsetirs Poeim. f.,' 

R**u«sr.Mi’s I mile, 

„ Sixiai (contract and other l.ssaya, 


,. t onlcssioiis, 859-6(11 

Ruikin’s Stone* of Venue, 21 3-15 
,, Se»a;Tie and Lilies, 21 * 

Stott’s Sir W ; I\anhf.e, 16 

,, H' de of 1 .inuneriiKHtr, 127 
„ t ojs ng, 1 3 3 
,. Heart of MuJl 'thian, 134 

„ Kenilworth. 135 

Old Mortality, I 37 
,, tjurntin Durward, 140 
Rcdgaunllct, Ml 
„ Rob Rov. M2 

The Tallyman, 144 
SrwcH’s 'Anna Black Brauty, 7 45 
Shakespeare’s t^'me-hes, 153 

,, 1 lisioTies, etc , 154 

„ 'I ra gedics, 155 

SbelJey’i Poetical Worka, 257-8 
.Shelley’s (.Mra , Frankenstein, 616 
Sheridan's PI»y*i ^5 
Sicnkiewicz’s T-l'-s, 874 

„ Quo Vadu }, 970 



6inith*i. Wealth of Nations, 412-13 
Smollett's Roderick Random, 790 

„ The Expedition of Humphry 

.Clinker, 975 

Somerville arkl Ross: Experiences of an 
Irish R.M., 978 
Sophocles' Dramas, 114 
Southey’s Life of Nelson, 52 
Spencer's (Herbert) Essays on Education 

Spenser’s Faerie Queene, 443-4 

„ The Shepherd’s Calendar, 879 

Spinoza’s Ethics, etc., 481 
Spyn’s Hcidi, 431 
Stanley's Eastern Church, 251 
Steele^s The ^ectator, 164-7 
„ The Tatlcr, 993 
Sterne's Tristram Shandy, 617 

„ Sentimental Journey, and Journal 
to Eliza, 796 

Stevenson's Treasure Island, and Kid- 
napped. 763 

„ Master or Ballantrae, and The Black 
Arrow, 764 

„ Virginibus Puerisque, and Familiar 
Studies of Men and Books, 765 
„ An Inland Voyage, Travels with a 
Donkey, and Silverado Squatters, 

„ Dr. JckyU and Mr. Hyde, The 
Merry Men, etc., 767 
Poems, 768 

Stowe’s Uncle Tom’s Cabin, 371 
Swedenborg’s The True Christian Religion, 

Swift’s Gulliver’s Travels, Unabridged Edi- 
tion, 60 

„ Tale of a Tub. etc., 347 
„ Journal to Stella, 757 
Swinburne’s (A. C.), Poems and Prose, 961 

Tchekhov’s Plays and Stories, 941 
Tennyson’s Poems, 44, 626 
I'hackeray's Esmonth 73 
„ Vamty Fair, 298 

„ Pendennis, 425-6 

„ Newcomes, 465-6 

, The Virginians, 507-8 

„ English Humorists, and The 

Four Georges, 610 
Thierry's Norman Conquest, 198-9 
Thoreau’s Walden, 281 
Thucydides’ Peloponnesian War, 455 
Tolstoy’s Master and Man, Other Parables 
and Tales, 469 
„ War and Peace, 525-7 

„ Anna Karenina. 612-13 

Trench's On the Study or Words, and Eng- 
lish Past and PresenjL 788 
Trollope's Barchestcr Towers, 30 
„ Framley Parsonage, 181 
„ The Warden, 182 
„ Dr. Thome, 360 
„ Small House at AUington, 361 
„ Last Chromcles of Bvset, 391-2 
„ Phineas Finn, 832-3 
Trotter’s The Bayard or India, 396 
Turgenev’s Virgin Soil, 528 

„ Liza. 677 

„ Fathers and Sons 742 

u Smoke, 988 


Twain's (Mark) Tom Sawyer, and Huckle 
berry Finn, ^#76 

Tytler^s Principles of Translation, 163 

Vaaan’s Lives of the Painters, 734-7 
Verne's (Jules) Twenty Thousand League 
under the Sea, 319 
Vita's Aeneid, 161 

„ Eclogues and Georgies, 222 
Voltaire’s Age of Louis XIV, 780 
„ Candide and Other Tales, 936 

Wakefield’s Letter from Sydney, etc., 823 
Walpole's Letters, 775 
Walton’s Complete Angler, 70 
Waterton's Wanderings in South America 

Webster and Ford’s Selected Plays, 8JJ 
Wesley’s Journal, 106-8 
Whitcjs Sclbornc, 48 
Whitman’s Leaves of Grass, 573 
Wilde’s Plays, Prose Writings, and Poems, 

Wollstonecraft’t Rights of Woman, 825 
Woolman’s Journal, etc., 402 
Wordsworth’s Longer Foams, 311 

Zola’s Gernunal, 897 

Anthologitt^ Composite Volume! t etc. 

A Book of British Ballads, 572 
A Century of Essays, an Anthology, 653 
American Short Stories of the Nineteenth 
Century, 840 

An Anthology of English Prose: From Bide 
to Stevenson, 675 
Anglo-Saxon Poet^, 794 
Anthology of British Historical Speeches 
and Orations, 714 

Chinese Philosophy in Classical Times, 973 
Dictionary, Biographical, of English Litera- 
ture, 449 

,, Everyman’s English, 776 
English Galaxy of Shorter Poems, 95 i 
English Short Stories, 743 
Fairy Tales from the Arabian Nights, 244 
French Short Stones, 896 
Golden Treasury of Longer Poems, 745 
Hindu Scriptures, 944 
International Modern Plays, 989 
Koran, The, 380 
MabmMion. The, 97 
Minor Elizabethan Drama, 491-2 
Minor Poets of the 18ih Century, 844 
Minor Poets of the 17th Century, 873 
Mother Goos^ 473 
New Golden Treasury, 695 
New Testament, The, 93 
Portuguese Voyages, 986 
Prayer Books of Kmg Edward VI, \M 
Prelude to Poetry, 789 
Restoration Plavt, 604 
Russian Shqrt Stones, 758 
Selections from St. Thomas Aquinas. 953 
Shorter Novels: Elizabethan, 824 

„ Jacobean and Restoration, 841 

„ Eighteenth Century, 856 

Silver Poets of die 16th Century, 985 
Table Talk. 906 

Theology m the BngUsh Poets, 493